We have been talking about theology lately…how much God knows, how little, whether it is important that we know how much he knows, and so on and so forth. It’s all very interesting, time consuming and, to an extent, tiresome. Fact is, the Bible is silent on some issues, speaks loudly on others, and is rather ambiguous about still others (such as whether or not Jesus had long hair). All jesting aside, I don’t think it is unreasonable to believe that there are some things that simply cannot be known by us about God.

But that doesn’t mean it is unhealthy to talk about such things and debate them.

Many years ago I read this book by John Sanders called The God Who Risks. I was too young at the time to fully grasp what I was reading, but in light of recent conversations (among others), I have been thinking about the book’s contents and arguments (it seems even back then, more than 10 years ago, John Piper was on the radar in these conversations). One interesting thing I noted about the book is that I didn’t mark it up like I normally do a book I am reading. Seriously, not one ink mark on any page. Strange. Although I do vaguely recall disagreeing with quite a lot of it (what I understood at the time).

So, here’s Sanders on salvation, what he calls the Relational Model of Salvation:

God takes risks with enabling grace in that people are not forced to believe. God does not believe in himself through us. The love of Christ and the prompting of the Spirit create the context in which we may respond in penitence and faith to God’s gracious gift. God is the initiator and provider of salvation, yet he does not want a relationship without our consent. (246)

I believe this conversation is meaningful enough that I will post some more of Sanders’ thoughts later this week and next. For now, though, I am curious. Do you think God takes risks? I remember one time, when I was but a young preacher, preaching a sermon that expounded a point that went something like this: God is courageous. I remember one of the elders questioning me closely after the sermon and then informing me, in no uncertain terms, that God doesn’t need to be courageous.

Years later, I wonder…

The renewal of the human being in the divine image is profoundly personal, and embraces the human person in his or her totality.  This means that (trans)formation is fully embodied within a nest of relationships, a community.  From Scripture we receive an all-encompassing perspective on human health in the cosmos and in relation to God, but also well-developed ways of identifying the sickness that spreads like a cancer througout the human family, even eating away at the world that humans call home.  The term generally given this sickness in the Christian tradition is “sin”, a multivalent term that points to the myriad ways in which humans – individually, collectively, and systematically – neglect, deny, and refuse simply to be human – that is, to embrace and live out their vocation as creatures made in the image of God.  Accordingly, a Christian conception of human transformation does not allow the categorization of either the person or his or her salvation into “parts,” as though inner and outer life could be separated.  Angst among Christians in recent decades over how to prioritize ministries of “evangelism” and “social witness” is simply wrongheaded, therefore, since the gospel, the “evangel” of “evangelism,” cannot but concern itself with human need in all its aspects.  Only an erroneous body-soul dualism could allow – indeed, require – “ministry” to become segregated by its relative concern for “spiritual” versus “material” matters.  Nor does a Christian conception of human transformation allow us to think of the restoration of individuals, as it were, one at a time, but pushes our categories always to account for the human community and, beyond humanity, the cosmos.  Persons are not saved in isolation from the world around them.  Restoration to the likeness of God is the work of the Spirit within the community of God’s people, the fellowship of Christ-followers set on maturation in Christ.  From this vantage point, “image of God” points ultimately to the transformation of believers in resurrection, a transformation already at work in the creation of new humanity through the dissolution of barriers dividing human beings from one another along gender, social, or ethnic lines (Col 3:10-11; 1 Cor 12:12-13; Gal 3:28).

Joel B. Green, from Body, Soul, and Humanity, pp. 69-70

“One thing is absolutely certain, namely, that victory will never be found by taking the line of least resistance.”–Winston Churchill, The Second World War: The Gathering Storm, 436

All that conversation about Paul meant in 1 Corinthians 11 got my wheels turning and my head spinning and my heart all a-flutter with exegetical ambitions and sermons. So I broke out my Greek NT, a couple of commentaries, and my trusty Mouton and Geden concordance to the Greek NT.

Good times.

Anyhow…while doing some research I came across some thoughtful words in Prior’s commentary on 1 Corinthians in the Bible Speaks Today series of NT Commentaries. I have always liked and enjoyed Prior’s commentary because he cuts to the heart of the matter and in so doing he forces us to cut to the heart of our own matters as well. Here’s what Prior wrote, concerning divisions, differences, and theological orthodoxy in 1 Corinthians 11:

Paul expected schism, because he was a realist, but he deplored it and sought to remove it. One of the incidental results of heresy (selectivity) in a local Christian community is that it provides an acid test of genuine commitment to Christ and to the body of Christ, as distinct from religious bigotry or simply love of theological debate. Paul had to constantly warn young church leaders like Timothy and Titus about such professing Christians. When those who claim to be Christians love nothing better than empty and profitless arguments about theological niceties, that indicates their real spiritual condition. Such folk are not genuine (dokimoi), they have not passed the test, and their loud claims about theological ’soundness’ will not impress the Lord on that crucial day when our Christian service is scrutinized. (186-187)

This gives me a lot to think about because it, again, cuts to the heart of the matter: why do I have the conversation in the first place? What is my own spiritual condition? What am I doing that will ‘impress’ the Lord on that day?

One of my friends on Facebook posted a link to a great article by Scot McKnight on Christianity Today earlier today. McKnight does a good job of talking about the perceived differences between the way the Kingdom of God is presented in the Gospels and the way Paul presents the Gospel. In his opinion, the way evangelicals think of this supposed divide is changing:

But something has happened in the past two decades: a subtle but unmistakable shift among many evangelicals from a Pauline-centered theology to a Jesus-shaped kingdom vision. Sources for this shift surely include George Eldon Ladd’s The Presence of the Future, the rugged and unrelenting justice voice of Jim Wallis, perhaps most notably in his Call to Conversion, and a growing social conscience among evangelicals.

So does this new found appreciation of the Kingdom mean that evangelicals are abandoning Paul? Well, perhaps some may feel drawn to do so, but, according to McKnight, this is a bit of a false dilemma. Is it really necessary to set Jesus and Paul against each other? No. First, how does Paul actually define the Gospel? McKnight reminds us:

As we can see, here Paul is about to define gospel, and in fact, this is the only text in the New Testament that does so. What he says next is crucial:

For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Peter, and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me also, as to one abnormally born.

A number of observations are in order.

First, this is the gospel handed on to Paul (v. 3), which suggests it was the gospel the earliest apostles preached.

Second, the gospel saves people from their sins (v. 2-3).

Third, the essence of the gospel is the story of Jesus (vv. 3-8) as the completion of Israel’s story (v. 3). Both the word Christ (Messiah) and the phrase “according to the Scriptures” are central to how the apostles understood the word gospel.

Fourth, there’s not a word here about either kingdom or justification! Sure, you can probe “for our sins” until both themes bubble up to the surface, but we should at least let Paul be Paul when it comes to defining the gospel.

So, the idea that the Gospel is just about personal justification is an idea that is superimposed on the definition that Paul actually gives. Yes, salvation from our sins is part and parcel to the message, but the Gospel is primarily about Jesus – who He is, what He did, and how He fits into the whole narrative of Scripture. Jesus did what Israel could not do by remaining faithful to the covenant, and by dying and rising victorious over death and the Enemy, He brings salvation to the world.

In conclusion, McKnight says:

My contention, then, is simple: If we begin with kingdom, we have to twist Paul into shape to fit a kingdom vision. If we begin with justification, we have to twist Jesus into shape to fit justification. But if we begin with gospel, and if we understand gospel as Paul does in 1 Corinthians 15:1-11, then we will find what unifies Jesus and Paul—that both witness to Jesus as the center of God’s story. The gospel is the core of the Bible, and the gospel is the story of Jesus. Every time we talk about Jesus, we are gospeling. Telling others about Jesus leads to both the kingdom and justification—but only if we begin with Jesus.

Overall, I find McKnight’s conclusion very convincing and helpful. The is basically the same thing as N.T. Wright has been saying for a long time now, and it seems like others are seeing the usefulness of his approach. McKnight doesn’t get into the technical definition of the terms in this short essay, but there are plenty of other places to do that. His point that the Gospel is the story of Jesus is very good one. It’s something we all need reminded of.

Blessings!

“I will set a sign among them, and I will send some of those who survive to the nations—to Tarshish, to the Libyans and Lydians (famous as archers), to Tubal and Greece, and to the distant islands that have not heard of my fame or seen my glory. They will proclaim my glory among the nations.  And they will bring all your people, from all the nations, to my holy mountain in Jerusalem as an offering to the LORD—on horses, in chariots and wagons, and on mules and camels,” says the LORD. “They will bring them, as the Israelites bring their grain offerings, to the temple of the LORD in ceremonially clean vessels.  And I will select some of them also to be priests and Levites,” says the LORD.

“As the new heavens and the new earth that I make will endure before me,” declares the LORD, “so will your name and descendants endure. From one New Moon to another and from one Sabbath to another, all mankind will come and bow down before me,” says the LORD.  “And they will go out and look on the dead bodies of those who rebelled against me; the worms that eat them will not die, the fire that burns them will not be quenched, and they will be loathsome to all mankind.”

I read this this morning. It was beautiful to me. I wonder how it is to you? What do you think God is saying here through the prophet?

“I am equally haunted by the insanity of God’s relentless unconditional love for me–a speck of sand on the beach of humanity.”–Nathan Foster, Wisdom Chaser, 57

I’m frequently surprised at how easily people can miss the point of something, whether it’s a song, play, short statement, article/post, or a passage of Scripture.  We all have times that we are distracted by something else.  There are also times when we aren’t thinking the same way that the communicator is and so we can miss the point.  But I understand those things.  What actually surprises me is the ongoing ignorance of what matters, of what is at the heart of any given instance of communication.  Some people go for years having never grasped the great themes of movies like The Dark Knight, or books like The Chronicles of Narnia, or passages of Scripture like much of Paul’s writing.*

For the past 20 years at least, preachers and others who study the Bible regularly have been reacting against the culturally common portrayal of the nativity.**  Songs and nativity sets alike have been bashed and bruised.  Stable?  I think not.  Silent night?  You obviously don’t have children.***  Three Kings?  Let me count the ways that one is wrong.  No, seriously, let me count them for you.  Three?  Says who?  Kings? I see Magi.  At best you can call them wise men.  There the night of the birth?  Maybe the night of the birth of their second child.  We aren’t told for sure when, but over the past couple of decades we’ve been led to believe that Jesus was more likely a toddler (or at least a much older infant) than a newborn when the Magi showed up on the scene.  But the more I think about these things, the more I think that these reactions are a distraction and possibly even inaccurate themselves.

I’m all for Biblical accuracy, but I think that at times, we’ve missed the point.  We get so busy correcting the minor details that we’ve lost sight of the larger story arc.  This is especially ironic considering where and how Matthew placed the visit of the Magi in his telling of the greatest story ever told:

Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the reign of King Herod. About that time some wise men from eastern lands arrived in Jerusalem, asking,  “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose, and we have come to worship him.” King Herod was deeply disturbed when he heard this, as was everyone in Jerusalem.  He called a meeting of the leading priests and teachers of religious law and asked, “Where is the Messiah supposed to be born?”

“In Bethlehem in Judea,” they said, “for this is what the prophet wrote:

‘And you, O Bethlehem in the land of Judah,
are not least among the ruling cities of Judah,
for a ruler will come from you
who will be the shepherd for my people Israel.’”

Then Herod called for a private meeting with the wise men, and he learned from them the time when the star first appeared.  Then he told them, “Go to Bethlehem and search carefully for the child. And when you find him, come back and tell me so that I can go and worship him, too!”

After this interview the wise men went their way. And the star they had seen in the east guided them to Bethlehem. It went ahead of them and stopped over the place where the child was.  When they saw the star, they were filled with joy!  They entered the house and saw the child with his mother, Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasure chests and gave him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

When it was time to leave, they returned to their own country by another route, for God had warned them in a dream not to return to Herod.

After the wise men were gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up! Flee to Egypt with the child and his mother,” the angel said. “Stay there until I tell you to return, because Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.”

That night Joseph left for Egypt with the child and Mary, his mother, and they stayed there until Herod’s death. This fulfilled what the Lord had spoken through the prophet: “I called my Son out of Egypt.”

Matthew 2:1-15 (NLT)

Probably one of the more simplistic reasonings for placing Jesus as a toddler when the Magi arrives is founded in Herod’s command to kill every boy 2 years and younger (based on the time of the star first appearing to the Magi), as the text tells us.  I think that in part, this assumes that the star appeared upon the birth of Jesus, and not sometime before.  But we aren’t told, and even Herod doesn’t assume that.  He’s not taking any chances so he’s having every boy who was born in the area of Bethlehem, from the time of the appearance of the star until now, killed.

But even very intelligent scholars debate the timeline of this account and how it can/should be harmonized with Luke’s record.  Quite a few scholars place the appearance of the Magi after Joseph and Mary return to Nazareth after presenting Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:39).  The reasoning is that Mary and Joseph went to Nazareth to get their belongings and essentially move to Bethlehem.  After their escape to Egypt, they intended to return to Bethlehem upon their return  but out of fear of Herod’s son, went to Nazareth instead.  I’m okay with that.  All of this to say that we aren’t exactly sure when some of these events took place.  We don’t know when the star appeared.  We don’t know the length of time they were in Egypt.  We aren’t even sure exactly when Jesus was born (not only time of year, but the year itself).  The timing is even possible that the Magi showed up within days of Jesus’ birth.  Certain points of view will hold more sway than others based on the amount of contextual evidence, but we just aren’t sure.

For Matthew, Jesus is the fulfillment of the O.T. promises of a King sent from and by God, who was of the line of David and who would save Israel.  These events surrounding the Magi play an important role in Jesus’ fulfillment of those prophecies/promises.  The Magi are used by God to provide for Joseph, Mary, and Jesus while still fulfilling the scriptures.  Much more devotionally and theologically can be said about the Magi, their visit, and their gifts, but greater theme being woven by Matthew is that Jesus is the one.  The one who was prophesied, the one who was promised, the one they’ve been looking for.  Jesus is King!

*Paul has a way of writing where he is communicating on two, sometimes three levels.  There’s the surface level (which is often unoffensive), and then the deeper point he’s trying to force.  Philemon is a great example of this.

**Chris Lyons wrote a series of excellent posts in prior years explaining in depth many details that help give us a more accurate view of the nativity and how and why those things matter.  I don’t think such things are unimportant, on the contrary, I find them to be very helpful.

***I don’t want to take from the Magi, but I just have to address Silent Night as well.  I’m sure the birth was noisy, and I’m sure there was crying during some of the time, and I’m sure some of the animals sporadically made various noises.  But I’m also sure that there were many hours of rest and peace and silence.  Where the beauty of the night, of the silence, of the events, of their newborn Son asleep made that the most glorious night ever.

I came across this the other day in something I was reading. I forget what I was reading now, but I scribbled it down in my fake Moleskine because it made sense to me.

People who insist that the sacredness of Scripture depends on belief in creation in a literal six days seem never to insist on a literal reading of ‘to him who asks give,’ or ’sell what you have and give to the money to the poor.’

That really punched me between the eyes. I need to re-evaluate.

*This is not a post about how to interpret Genesis nor is it an announcement that I no longer believe in a literal interpretation of Genesis so please, for the love of Harry Potter, don’t make it out to be so. Please don’t miss the forest through all the toothpicks.

I’m thankful for a God whose love
has depths and dimensions
that defy comprehension,
whose mercy and compassion
have neither limit nor ration,
and exceed the confines
of my feeble mind.
I’m thankful for a God whose grace exceeds
my ability to squander it,
who pursues me in my wandering,
who never gives up,
who always lives up
to His name
and glory
and honor.
I’m thankful for the Christ, the Messiah,
who dwelt among the least,
the despised and diseased,
who was maligned and falsely accused,
whose body was battered and abused.
I’m thankful for a mount called Golgotha
where love personified
and incarnate died,
where mercy and justice united,
man and God no longer divided.
I’m thankful for a tomb,
empty,
gaping,
vacant,
evidence of a resurrection power,
proof that death has been devoured,
power that is now mine
thru the resurrection of the divine,
so I shall not die, but live,
forgiven so I can also forgive.
I’m thankful for the abiding and patient Spirit,
the living God in me
setting me free
from my captivity.
I’m thankful for the power of that same Spirit within me
using me to draw women and men
to the God who’s in love with them,
in spite of me,
not because of me.
I’m thankful for the blessed hope of the soon return
of the slain and risen Lamb,
Son of God and of man,
the King of kings,
the Lord of lords,
of whom saints and angels sing
in harmonious chords.
I’m thankful that His return will birth
and usher in the new heaven and earth.
Gone will be sorrow and sin.
Gone will be death and disease.
All the redeemed will be welcomed in
to joy and bliss that will not cease.
Gone will be all that keeps this feeble man
from pure communion
from perfect union
with my God and with my fellow man.
I’m thankful for a faithful God who has fulfilled His covenant
thru Jesus Christ our Lord.
So let us all in one accord,
each who now rejoices
lift our joyous voices
and proclaim, “We are thankful!”