1 John 4:15-16
John is known as 'the apostle of love' and for good reason. In his first epistle his concentration on the love of God is obvious if not overwhelming. But what can be lost in this love language is his concern that believers also confess the truth about Jesus Christ. There were false teachers coming through the church who were teaching new things about Christ, which, if believed, would separate disciples from the truth and the fellowship of the body of Christ. John desperately wanted his congregation to hold to the truth in Jesus Christ and to love as he did with a unique and unquenchable fervor. Both are needed for our faith, but we are often tempted to take up either one and drop the other.
One common mistake in the Christian faith is to hold to the truths of Christ without their implications reaching our behavior. We believe; we don't behave. There are times when this is a cold faith. What we believe is reduced to formulae, to precisely worded statements of doctrine that must be adhered to under threat of inquisition. We come to Christ as a set of doctrines to be held to (and to hold others to) instead as coming to a Person - the Person who lived, died and rose again. Things like 'grace' become just terms and ideas instead of lifestyles and gifts of relationship. And as such, we lose too much.
Sometimes this is a fiery and fervent mistake. When Christ is reduced to statements of belief it becomes easy to recognize the impostors. It becomes easy to vet the undesirables, throw out a pastor, split a church, or leave the fold altogether. All because we had Christ down pat and they did not agree. Zeal without knowledge is a dangerous thing.
The other mistake may be a reaction to the first, but is just as wrong-headed. Down this path we take a journey of deeds, intentions, and emotions. The faith becomes a matter of what we do, how often we do it, how well-intentioned we are when we do it, and how fervently we reject the other mistake. Who needs doctrines and creeds that do nothing but divide? Here, we do not play those power games or exclude other deed-doers over minutiae. We want people who will live lives of love to their fellow human beings, nothing more, and certainly nothing less.
With all its good intentions this temptation leaves the front door open to any and every definition of "love" and eventually of Christ himself. After all, we are not going to divide and conquer over those kinds of things. In this way, though the deed is done (or at least is intended to be done), the truth of the person of Christ gets left by the roadside like the spare luggage we should not have packed in the first place.
John, however, shows us the better way. Christians confess and love. Disciples of Jesus Christ know and believe in the true Christ and love their brothers and sisters as Christ loved them. The believer with the robust and meaningful faith believes and behaves. It turns out that whoever confesses that Jesus is the Christ, came in the flesh, and died as the propitiation for our sins abides in him. And, not surprisingly, whoever loves as he loves abides in him and he abides in them. This is the better way.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
A God Greater Than Sin
Like all the early Christians, John’s first readers were
facing false teaching that threatened to separate them from their relationship
with each other and with Christ. While
there are times when John tells us exactly what the false teachers were saying,
there are times when we are required to infer the false teaching from the
correction John gives. We learn the
disease by reading the prescription labels.
It seems to be the case that John’s congregation was being tempted to
take sin too lightly, to view it with a frightening level of indifference, to
see sin as inconsequential to their lives with Christ.
To be sure, this is one way of dealing with the
unremitting reality of our own brokenness.
If we are able to deny sin itself, justify any behavior we want, or even
claim a certain kind of perfection, we are able (we think) to side-step the
problem sin presents. But this is not
John’s solution. His is radically
different from the temptation to suppress the sinfulness of sin. Instead, the closer we look at the depth and
power of sin and all of its consequences in our lives the more we learn that
God as greater than all of that. The God
who forgives does not forgive small and inconsequential things, He forgives the
very thing that becomes our ruination.
Disciples of Jesus Christ do not live forgiven lives because they have
diminished sin, but because God has done something about all their sin.
To remedy the false teaching John tells his readers that all
“sin is lawlessness.” Everything that is
contrary to the will and character of God is a breaking of His law. John does not make distinctions between the
large, visible sins and the small or private sins implying that only the ‘big’
acts of rebellion are lawless while the others are not. All that goes against God’s law is sin and
all sin is lawlessness – every inclination, every action.
John, however, does not leave us there. Christ “appeared to take away sins, and in
him there is no sin.” John knows our
lives are riddled with brokenness and that Christ came to fix that problem. In fact, knowing the extent of sin is our
doorway into understanding why Christ came.
If John’ s readers were denying their sinfulness, were they changing the
reason why Christ came? If I have
decided that I no longer suffer the ravages of sin, who then does Christ
become? It is a short path from the
softening of sin to Christ being reduced from a Savior to a moral example or a
great human teacher. Changing my need
changes my savior.
But, if John’s congregation holds to the teaching they have
heard from the beginning about their need and their true Savior, then both the
problem is rightly understood and the remedy is rightly accepted. Jesus Christ came to take away sins, not to
be listed among some of the greatest philosophers or teachers in history. And the only way to get to that saving God is
to take sin seriously.
The lighter we take sin the smaller and more unnecessary
God becomes to us. But if we look
unflinchingly at the power and ubiquity of sin and turn to the only One who can
cure us, God becomes Lord and Savior of our lives.
Monday, March 26, 2012
The Blessings and Curses
Though famous for the severity of the blessings and
curses, this passage of Scripture deserves to be seen both for its dramatic
flair and its take on fundamental moral realities. As Moses sets the stage for the events
described in this chapter, he fills two facing hillsides with the tribes of
Israel, places the Arc of the Covenant and the priests in the valley below, and
proclaims the terms of their covenant with God.
At each declaration of consequence, the people reply in unison, “Amen,”
declaring that they agree to the terms, to include the blessings and the
curses. Imagine the volume of the scene –
thousands of people crying, “Amen!” Imagine the liability of the people of God
publicly proclaiming that because they belong to God they are subject to the
terms of that covenant.
Before the details of the blessings and the curses are
understood, the place to begin is with a fundamental understanding of what it
entails to be the people of God. Though
God called Abram from Ur generations ago, and though God rescued them from
Egypt one generation ago, Moses makes a point of saying, “this day you have
become the people of God” (vs. 9). This
is not the literal day in which God makes them his people. This is the day the terms of the covenant are
brought to bear in a unique way. This is
the day of reckoning. This is the day of
consequence. This is the day of blessing
and curses.
Being the people of God, both then and now, comes with a
set of terms regarding reality. Though
God’s laws stand as immutable no matter who believes them, this is a unique
conversation God has with his people about their lives as humans who both
belong to him and represent him on this earth.
God’s people cannot live in relationship with him and act
however they please. Relationship with a
loving and holy God is not a moral free-for-all. God is not loving in a way that allows us to
follow our own hearts and create our own paths in life. God is our Creator; he created us to flourish
as humans who live according to his will and his ways. And God is so loving that he reveals those
ways as clearly and as often as possible.
And as people who say, “Amen,” we are responsible to those ways.
God’s people cannot break the terms of the covenant and
expect God’s blessing to continue to flow.
It is utterly human to expect good things to come if we act as though we
mean well, no matter what we actually do.
It is utterly divine to act in accordance with the Word of God, knowing
that it means our peace, salvation, and well-being.
God’s people need to grow comfortable with a moral
standard other than their own wishes to which they are responsible. If I had my way, I would set the standards by
which I will be judged. But reality
doesn’t work that way. Even the people
who love me the most don’t let me get away with that kind of narcissism. The Lord of heaven and earth has already set
the moral terms of human behavior and when I say, “Amen,” I explicitly agree to
his terms.
God’s people need to understand there really are
consequences for behavior, both good and bad.
The blessings and curses are both natural and divine consequences. Our actions have inevitable, natural
consequences, and God is involved in enforcing the terms of the covenant. We do not live in moral and spiritual
silly-putty.
Am I ready to say, “Amen”? Have I already said it and yet continue to
live as if I haven’t? The final call and
response of chapter 27 is the call to live what we affirm. “Cursed be anyone who does not confirm the
words of this law by doing them” (vs. 26).
And shall all the people say, “Amen”?
Monday, February 27, 2012
The Day After the Locust
A good Old Testament prophet is able to take the circumstances of the day and help us understand them through the will and word of God. Whatever is pervasive in culture, whatever crisis is impending, the prophet helps the people of God understand God’s view on things. Isaiah helps Israel hear God through the death of a king and the threat of Assyrians. Jeremiah tries to get Judah to repent and avoid the invasion of the Babylonians. Daniel lives as a faithful child of God in a pagan land and sees the power of the kingdom of God.
Joel gets bugs. To
be a little more specific, the crisis Joel’s generation faces, and the issue
God wants them to understand, is a plague of locust. It may not be glamorous, but through the
faithfulness of Joel we end up learning a lot about God’s people and the power
of a restoring God.
To begin with, the spiritual leaders of Israel are called
on the carpet. There is no evidence in
Joel that they are responsible for Israel’s sins, but they are responsible to
fulfill their role in a day of crisis. They
are spiritual leaders, and God’s people need to be lead back to him. God’s appointed spiritual leaders are exactly
that – they are not primarily business men, politicians, lawyers, or managers –
they are leaders in things spiritual. If
the congregation of God is to come back to their senses and a right relationship
with God, they will need to be lead by the priests and elders.
But the rest of the population is not let off the
hook. They are called to see what has
gone on around them and learn how to respond faithfully. They are not allowed to sit on the sidelines
and watch as the priests and elders put things right with God, they are expected
to be fully engaged in the process of repentance and restoration.
And then Joel tells the story of the locust. A devastating plague has swept through their
countryside and left nothing to them. A
plague of locust comes in waves, day after day.
Joel describes just that when he tells us that what the first wave didn’t
eat, the second wave ate, and what they left the third wave ate, and so
on. From eyewitness account after
account we can be sure of what happened to their countryside. Nothing was left. Crops, grass, seeds, heaps of stored grain,
the bark on the trees – all gone. Their
consumption was complete.
When the locusts come through, nothing edible is
left. Nothing promising any future value
remains. Joel and his people face a few
pressing questions. What can be done in
the face of such destruction? How can
the people of God be faithful on a day like this? Is there anyone who is great enough to
restore all that was lost?
As it turns out, there is a God who is both powerful
enough and faithful enough to restore what was lost. And there is a way for God’s people – even people
who have rebelled against God – to be faithful in a time like this.
To believe in a God of restoration is to understand the
depth of the destruction. And then we
begin to understand how much greater this God we worship really is. All is gone.
Everything we thought would take care of us tomorrow has been taken away
from us. So it is to you, O Lord, that
we turn.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
The Servant Comes Softly
Jesus was born in a manger to an earthly audience of two
parents and some stable animals. The
King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the One at whose name every knee will bow and
every tongue confess that he is Lord, the one who created all things by the
word of His mouth – entered this world in near complete anonymity. A handful of foreign wise men were looking
for Him, and one hillside lit up with the glory of God around some surprised
shepherds, but that is about it. The
Servant of God came softly.
No other anticipated earthly king came this way, but
Jesus was no earthly king in need of contrived pomp and circumstance. And despite this being a surprising turn of
events, it turns out that we knew He would enter this world in this
fashion. Isaiah told us that, “He will
not cry aloud or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street” (Isaiah
42:2).
It is telling that Jesus came this way, but why? The answer, I believe, lies in the next
thought:
“a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning
wick he will not quench” (Is 42:3).
Why did Jesus come quietly? Because I am a bruised reed. I am a lamp with nearly no oil left and whose
flame is near extinction. Jesus came
quietly because that is what the human condition demands – a God who enters the
world we actually live in to bring the healing and justice we actually need.
Broken and bruised people do not need more failed
promises, failing people or coercive political regimes. They need a Savior. The world can wear down the strongest among
us and even those with a seemingly unlimited reservoir of patience and
endurance come to the end of their strength.
Jesus comes to strengthen and restore.
But it isn’t just a restoration for a single lapse of judgment or
strength for one difficult season in life; it is a healing of our very
natures. Jesus comes quietly because we need quite in
this cacophony of noise from false idols.
Jesus comes gently because we long for a gentle, saving hand. Jesus comes meekly because we need a strong,
stable, kind hand untouched by the corruption of our world and our sin.
And though we are faintly burning wicks, God’s Servant
will not faint.
“He will not grow faint or be discouraged” (Isaiah 42:4).
God knows we grow weary in this world and falter in our
faithfulness, so it was necessary for a Servant who would not faint to come and
complete his will. We lose our strength
and resolve – He never will. We lose
sight of justice – He will unfailingly bring it to all.
For this Servant to be unfailing and faithful means that
no circumstance will turn Him away from accomplishing the will of God. Not even abandonment by friends. Not even betrayal by one of His closest
disciples. Not even the bloody and
body-breaking death of the cross. None
of it causes him to “faint or be discouraged” because He will bring justice to
all the earth and salvation to whosoever will believe.
The Servant comes softly, dies an unjust death, and rises
from the dead as Lord of all.
Monday, December 5, 2011
God's Servant Described
The Lord stands as the Judge in a dramatic courtroom
scene. All the idols and gods of this
world are brought before Him to decide if they have the power to foresee the
future or to bring to pass the things they say will happen. Every promise of salvation, power and meaning
that is not from God is brought before him and every one of them fails
miserably. Every idol of this world is exposed
as incompetent and impotent – they cannot do what they claim and lack the power
needed to fulfill their promises. So, it
turns out, “they are all a delusion” (Is. 41:29).
So the next step is a dramatic one: “Behold my servant,
whom I uphold.” God takes our attention
off the constant failures of this world to His Man, His will, His Servant – His
Son, Jesus Christ. In direct contrast to
the manufactured gods of wood and stone (and marketing and circuitry), God
wants us to consider and understand how His Servant will be different. And it is the difference between the light
and the dark, between the false and the true, between life and death.
To begin with, God’s Servant is upheld by His power. Every other false god may claim a certain
kind of power or potency, but all of them fail to have the divine power within
them. Jesus is not just the Servant of
God, He is the very presence and power of God among us. He is, as Isaiah says elsewhere, Emmanuel –
God who is with us. We cannot escape the
reality of the power of God because it was the literal presence of God on earth
in the birth of Jesus Christ.
The Servant is God’s chosen to perform His will. God knows we fail and falter even when we are
at our best as we live out this life of a disciple, so His chosen Servant will
not fail. We are faithless, He will be
faithful. God’s desire for this world
will be done, and it will be accomplished through the Servant.
And surprisingly enough, the Servant is the focus of God’s
delight on earth. Early in Jesus’
ministry, He went to John the Baptist to be baptized and it was one of the rare
moments in the New Testament when the heavens opened and God spoke
audibly. He said, “You are my beloved Son, in you I am well
pleased.” God delights in his Son; God
delighted in the birth of his Son on the first Christmas day.
And the Servant will be lead by the power and wisdom of
the Spirit of God. Jesus told the
disciples that the Spirit of God would be their comforter and guide in all
truth and the will of the Father. It
turns out he knew the same Spirit. If we
return to Jesus’ baptism, we see God the Son rise out of the water, God the
Father speak His delight, and God the Spirit descend upon Christ in the form of
a dove – a wonderful image of the Triune God in harmony. We read nearly the same scene in Isaiah
42:1. God the Father speaks of His
delight in the Servant, God the Son, upon whom God the Spirit will rest.
We cannot ascend to the Father through any achievement,
speculation or desire. We cannot
construct an ideology, a movement, or a program that has the power to guide and
heal the human condition. Every one of
our hand-crafted idols is a false hope, so we need a true Savior. Because we could not ascend and become like
Him, He descended and became one of us.
Because we live in the visible and material the invisible and immaterial
God stepped into human flesh taking on the form of a servant.
In the birth of one infant on the first Christmas day we
are able to behold the Servant of God.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The Ambition of the Call
Every disciple is a called disciple. Every follower of Christ is called to live
for Christ. The Christian is not just
saved from an eternity apart from God, but is saved to live a life like Christ’s
while here on this earth. God called
each believer to follow Christ. And God
calls each believer to do something for him, to live a certain life for him, to
become a certain kind of person for him.
And this calling is not just for the special disciples, the intellectual
or the super-spiritual. If you are a
child of God, you are called by God.
As Paul wraps up his letter to the Romans, we get a
glimpse into his calling. And though
many of the specifics of Paul’s calling are unique to him, we learn a lot about
our calling as we learn how Paul approached his call. The way he treats the life God gave him gives
me insight into how God wants me to treat my life with him.
“And thus I make it my ambition to preach the gospel” (vs
20).
Paul’s calling – to preach the gospel where it had never
been preached before – was the driving ambition of his life. In fact, it was the reason he had been
delayed in visiting the Romans.
Apparently he had planned to go Rome several times, but was unable to
because he was waylaid by open mission fields.
Paul wanted to preach the gospel; Paul loved to do what God put him on
earth to do, and in this context of Romans it is easy to imagine an exciting and
fulfilling life for Paul. But when we
peel back the call itself, we see something else.
Acts chapter 9 tells us the story of Paul’s call, how
Paul was persecuting the church, how God knocked him off his donkey, and how
God used Ananias to deliver His message to Paul. Just days after Paul’s conversion, God
explained the call in his life this way, “he is a chosen instrument of mine to
carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel. For I
will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name” (Acts 9:15-16).
From one point of view, this call seems hard if not
impossible. And it does so happen that
Paul endures severe hardship in the service of this call, and eventually
suffers martyrdom for preaching the gospel.
But from another point of view – the one that dominates Paul – the calling
is a pleasure, a joy, a glory, even his life’s ambition. When Paul writes the Romans and calls his
life’s work his “ambition,” he has already suffered greatly, but it is as if
none of that matters. The call to preach
the gospel, to do the thing God put him on earth to do, far outweighs the
trials that come with the work.
The word he uses for “ambition” is telling. It is a kind of love. In fact, it can be literally translated as a “love
of honor.” Paul loves to do what God
called him to do. Paul considers it his
highest honor to be called by God to proclaim the gospel and he will do it
until there is no breath left in his body.
We often shy away from our calling because we are afraid
of what God will make of our lives. “I’ll
give you everything but…” or, “do with me what you will, just don’t make me a…” These all too common reactions miss the logic
and the power of God’s call. God made
you and formed every corner of your being.
In the end, only he can make of your life everything it was intended to
be. Your calling is nothing to be afraid
of. We cannot consider it drudgery. We must make it our ambition – our honor and
driving love – to do what God called us to do.
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