"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed." 1 Peter 4:12, 13
Judas got up from the table quickly and prepared to leave. After closing the upper room door on his Lord, he made his way into the night. The hard stones on the street received his heavy feet perhaps reluctantly. What he was thinking we do not know; what he did we do. He made his was to the Sanhedrin and sold out Jesus for a mere thirty pieces of silver. Judas could not stomach the idea that the promised Messiah's glory would be attended by rejection and suffering.
Jesus, however, walked a different path. That very night he make it His special point to connect the hour of suffering with the coming of His glory. The climactic hour of the one was inexorably linked to the glory of the other. On the night of His betrayal He lifted His eyes up to Heaven and said, "Father, the hour has come, glorify your Son" [John 17:1]. Somehow Jesus knew that the eternal glory of the Christ could be established only by suffering on the cross. He was not surprised by this. He did not think it strange. So when the hour came for Him to embrace it as His own, He was not ashamed.
This is a lesson that virtually all believers must come to realize in a personal way at some point in their journey of faith. It is no coincidence or accident that Jesus commands us to "take up our crosses and follow Him." Yet, perhaps the most striking thing I realize after each overseas medical mission trip I take, is how surprised Americans are when they must suffer. It almost seems to be the normal expectation for us here in this country that life will be easy. That we deserve to have everything go well. In Cameroon, Peru, Nicaragua, Uganda and dare I say virtually all of the third world, suffering is almost expected. Certainly the people I meet there are almost never surprised when things that we would consider horrific occur. They are virtually accepted without question. Here there would be loud protestations and likely lawsuits. Surely someone else is at fault and surely someone will have to pay. Not so in most of the world. So perhaps Peter was writing this letter to us in the west [as well as to the "elect exiles of the dispersion" ... who knew little else than suffering in their lives] to remind us that we should not expect a fate much better than that of our Lord.
I am reminded of what George Matheson said about suffering in the life of a believer. This 19th century man had been born with very poor eyesight and was virtually blind by age 18. Robbed of his physical sight, he nevertheless could see spiritual truth with penetrating insight and clarity. Suffering in life never caught him by surprise and he never thought suffering for his Christian faith was strange. And when, according to God's will, he was asked to enter into it, he was never ashamed. He wrote:
"There is a time coming in which your glory shall consist of the very thing which now constitutes your pain. Nothing could be more sad to Jacob than the ground on which he was lying, a stone for a pillow. It was the hour of his poverty. It was the season of his night. It was the seeming absence of his God. The Lord was in the place and he knew it not. Awakened from his sleep he found that the day of his trial was the dawn of his triumph.
Ask the great ones of the past what has been the spot of their prosperity and they will say, 'It was the cold ground on which I was lying.' Ask Abraham; he will point to the sacrifice on Mt. Moriah. Ask Joseph; he will direct you to his dungeon. Ask Moses; he will date his fortune from his danger in the Nile. Ask Ruth; she will bid you build her a monument in the field of her toil. Ask David; he will tell you that his songs came in the night. Ask Job; he will remind you that God answered him out of the whirlwind. Ask Peter; he will extol his submersion in the sea. Ask John; he will give the path to Patmos. Ask Paul; he will attribute his inspiration to the light which struck him blind.
Ask one more! -- the Son of God. Ask Him whence has come His rule over the world; He will answer, 'From the cold ground on which I was lying -- the Gethsemane ground -- I received my scepter there.' Thou too, my soul, shall be garlanded by Gethsemane. The cup though fain wouldst pass from thee will be thy coronet in the world by and by."
Ask the saints, any of them, and the response is the same. They never thought glory could be gained in any other way. Perhaps the poet Ella Wheeler Wilcox said it best:
All those who journey, soon or late,
Must pass within the garden's gate;
Must kneel alone in darkness there,
And battle with some fierce despair.
God pity those who cannot say,
"Not mine but thine," who only pray,
"Let this cup pass," and cannot see
The purpose in Gethsemane.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
To Nurture or to Sear our Conscience ... Our Daily Struggle
Tomorrow I must to carry out one of the sadly all too frequent and disturbing tasks that come with the position of serving as an elder in Jesus' church .... that of confronting a man who's life is culminating the end-stage fruit of a long path of resistance to the Holy Spirit's nudging of his conscience. Yet, his life also serves as an excellent launching point to consider just what great treasures our consciences actually are. Certainly, it is one of the kindest gifts God has given to every man even though I can't begin to count how many times I wished mine would just leave me alone. Nevertheless, I can clearly see that to vanquish my conscience would truly be the most disastrous of victories.
So what exactly is the human conscience? The Greek word for conscience, suneidesis, literally means to possess "co-knowledge of something resulting in one's sense of guiltiness before God." Thus it would seem that we were created with a unique and intrinsic faculty to give us a kind of third-person perspective on the rightness and also the wrongness of our actions. According to A. W. Tozer, the foundation of the human conscience is "the secret presence of Christ in the world." To support this conclusion, he points to John 1:9, "There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man." This inward moral awareness is simply the "secret inner voice" of the Lord "accusing or else excusing him." I personally think Tozer is on to something here.
In the physical realm, the conscience is comparable to the human nervous system. When a person is wounded, he feels pain -- it is the body's inherent means of alerting him that something has gone wrong. Likewise in the spiritual realm, when a person sins, the human soul has a warning system that sounds an alarm because the person's actions have wounded him spiritually. The soul-alarm cries out "Mayday! Mayday! Something is wrong!" He senses that his actions are not only wrong but will also result in destructive consequences.
A person with a tender conscience is keenly aware of every infraction against the Lord [my wife Janna is a good living example of this]. He or she recognizes sin for the ugly thing that it is. Immoral deeds, though seemingly insignificant to others, are viewed in this context as monstrous crimes against a holy God. Their importance, while not exaggerated, is internally magnified so that their true, insidious nature may be clearly seen. The person with a soft heart also remains consistently open to the Holy Spirit's conviction. He or she is not looking to push the limits of sin -- to see how much he or she can get away with -- but to avoid it altogether. Sin, to him or her, is a cancer which must be eradicated at any cost. The prayer of David expresses the unseen attitude of such a person: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my anxious thoughts; and see if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way" [Psalm 139:24].
Most people who have experienced a true conversion begin their new life with this kind of spiritual sensitivity. The eyes of their hearts have been opened to the wonders of Jesus Christ and His kingdom. Unfortunately, it is often only a matter of time until their "first love" for Jesus dwindles into religious form. As new believers begin to learn the ropes of Christianity, a slight hardening of the heart takes place. The deep sense of helplessness that once created such a humble dependence upon the Lord is gradually replaced with spiritual pride. Bright and innocent faith is slowly and progressively supplanted with cynicism. Eventually, the world's attractions begin to regain their carnal luster, old idols are re-erected within the heart, and once-forsaken sins begin to resurface.
The Scriptures describe this process as the "wandering away from a good conscience," [ 1 Timothy 1:5-6] and the corrupting of the conscience [Titus 1:15]. Both describe the same process of inner moral decay that occurs when a person allows sin to re-establish itself within his heart. If that person continues along this course he will soon lose the sense of evil that is inherent in sin. The person who habitually gives himself over to sin also loses the ability to feel the spiritual "pain" of that sin [see Romans 1:21-32 and Psalm 81:11-12 among other passages]. So what actually happens to people who lose this sense? Consider the leper who experiences a similar thing physically in his body. Having lost sensation in his extremities and his face, he is becomes terribly and sometimes fatally injured because he is unaware of the traumas that he has suffered. In the spiritual realm, this an excellent living picture of the hardening of the soul that occurs inside the person who remains in unrepentant sin. As his heart becomes slowly calloused, the spiritual system God constructed within him slowly loses its ability to detect the damage being done to it. It is little wonder that "Christian" men in habitual sexual sin can sit in church week after week, singing songs of worship to a God they continue to defy. "Hardened by the deceitfulness of sin," [Hebrews 3:13] their entire beings are riddled with a leprosy of evil which they can no longer even detect!
At this point I want to harken back to a blog entry I wrote on December 17, 2009 regarding the searing of King Herod Antipas' conscience. Herod had seduced his sister-in-law, Herodias, and then persuaded her to leave her husband, Herod Philip, to marry him. Of course this was completely forbidden under Jewish law. John the Baptist had told Herod [Mark 6:18] that "it was not lawful for you to have your brother's wife" and so for very personal reasons, "Herodias nursed a grudge against John and wanted to kill him" [v. 19]. But she was not able to do so because Herod feared John and protected him [despite having thrown him into a dungeon prison under his palace] because he considered "him to be a righteous and holy man." When Herod would hear John, he would become "greatly puzzled" and yet he still "liked to listen to him." One has to wonder WHY? John must have been a breath of fresh air amidst the debauchery of Herod's court. Perhaps Herod's spirit would feel inexplicably elevated in John's presence. Perhaps there were even some failed attempts at self-reformation. Nonetheless, Herod's discomforting fear of John was evidence that his conscience was at least stirred by John's words.
But in a trying and drunken moment following the seductive dance of Herodias' daughter, Salome, he unwisely promised to give her anything up to half his kingdom and with that, Herodias' trap was perfectly set. Salome demanded John's head on a platter ... and for a few moments the room went silent and Herod's soul teetered in the balance ... the Scriptures use a word for an anguish of the soul that was only used one other time in the entire New Testament and that was of Jesus' anguish the night before his crucifixion as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. For just a few moments Herod was having a crisis of conscience! There was at last a least a flickering of life. For just an instant, anything was possible, including his repentance.
But ultimately, fearing more what both his friends and even what Rome would think than the price his soul would pay, he ordered John's beheading. What a heartbreaking turn of events! Herod's conscience had begun to speak one last time, but he silenced it because he feared loss of reputation, he feared his "honor" would be besmirched, he feared what others might think and even that he might lose his position. Sadly, now only a deep and gaping darkness awaited Herod.
Fast forward to Jesus' trial before Herod. When Pilate transferred Jesus' case to Herod, he was thrilled ... but for all the wrong reasons. He had no spiritual interest in seeing Jesus as he had John in the past. Now it was all about SHOWTIME! He wanted to see a miracle [Luke 23:8]. He no longer had any spiritual fear or trepidation. His murder of John had produced an incapacity to see anything in Jesus. And Jesus gave Herod no response whatsoever, despite a very lengthy interrogation [Luke 23:9]. In contrast, Jesus was willing to reason with the scandalous high priest Caiaphas and even to prophesy to him [Luke 22:69, 70]. He conversed with Pilate and gave him very substantive answers to ponder [Luke 23:3; John 18:33-38]. He grieved over Judas in the Upper Room as he reached out for his very soul. But before Herod, he maintained a dreadful silence. Herod's days of grace were long since over. His conscience had long since been seared and could no longer respond! But beyond even lacking enough life in his soul to respond to the grace of almighty God standing right in front of him, he went even further and openly mocked Christ effectively holding the God of the universe in contempt.
What does it mean to have one's conscience seared? There have been many answers to this question over the centuries. Adam Clarke described it as "One cauterized by repeated applications of sin, and resistings of the Holy Ghost ..." The Fausett Bible Dictionary explains it as "... a harded determination to resist every spiritual impression ..." The Pulpit Commentary said it is "the gradual deterioration of sensibility produced by habitual sin." I especially like John Wesley's rendering as a "drunkenness of soul, a fatal numbness of spirit ... " Clearly it would seem that if one remains in sin long enough, he can reach a point of no return. A point where he is no longer influenced by the Holy Spirit. This is what the Bible terms apostacy.
How can a man know if he has gone too far? The very concern over such a possibility reveals the fact that there remains hope for him. Apostates, having lost all sense of morality, have no concern over such matters. And when a man in habitual sin repents, his hardened heart begins again to soften and he will gradually begin to feel the conviction of sin once again. Finally, he returns to the place where God can reach him and help him overcome. As the writer of Hebrews proclaimed, "How much more will the blood of Christ ... cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?" [Hebrews 9:14]
The silence of Jesus before Herod is both a shocking and dramatic example not to trifle with holy things and not to suppress the nudgings of the Holy Spirit in our souls. We never know, on this side of eternity, when will be the last time our spirits will hear His call. "Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts..." [Psalm 95:7, 8]. May we always have ears to hear.
So what exactly is the human conscience? The Greek word for conscience, suneidesis, literally means to possess "co-knowledge of something resulting in one's sense of guiltiness before God." Thus it would seem that we were created with a unique and intrinsic faculty to give us a kind of third-person perspective on the rightness and also the wrongness of our actions. According to A. W. Tozer, the foundation of the human conscience is "the secret presence of Christ in the world." To support this conclusion, he points to John 1:9, "There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man." This inward moral awareness is simply the "secret inner voice" of the Lord "accusing or else excusing him." I personally think Tozer is on to something here.
In the physical realm, the conscience is comparable to the human nervous system. When a person is wounded, he feels pain -- it is the body's inherent means of alerting him that something has gone wrong. Likewise in the spiritual realm, when a person sins, the human soul has a warning system that sounds an alarm because the person's actions have wounded him spiritually. The soul-alarm cries out "Mayday! Mayday! Something is wrong!" He senses that his actions are not only wrong but will also result in destructive consequences.
A person with a tender conscience is keenly aware of every infraction against the Lord [my wife Janna is a good living example of this]. He or she recognizes sin for the ugly thing that it is. Immoral deeds, though seemingly insignificant to others, are viewed in this context as monstrous crimes against a holy God. Their importance, while not exaggerated, is internally magnified so that their true, insidious nature may be clearly seen. The person with a soft heart also remains consistently open to the Holy Spirit's conviction. He or she is not looking to push the limits of sin -- to see how much he or she can get away with -- but to avoid it altogether. Sin, to him or her, is a cancer which must be eradicated at any cost. The prayer of David expresses the unseen attitude of such a person: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my anxious thoughts; and see if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way" [Psalm 139:24].
Most people who have experienced a true conversion begin their new life with this kind of spiritual sensitivity. The eyes of their hearts have been opened to the wonders of Jesus Christ and His kingdom. Unfortunately, it is often only a matter of time until their "first love" for Jesus dwindles into religious form. As new believers begin to learn the ropes of Christianity, a slight hardening of the heart takes place. The deep sense of helplessness that once created such a humble dependence upon the Lord is gradually replaced with spiritual pride. Bright and innocent faith is slowly and progressively supplanted with cynicism. Eventually, the world's attractions begin to regain their carnal luster, old idols are re-erected within the heart, and once-forsaken sins begin to resurface.
The Scriptures describe this process as the "wandering away from a good conscience," [ 1 Timothy 1:5-6] and the corrupting of the conscience [Titus 1:15]. Both describe the same process of inner moral decay that occurs when a person allows sin to re-establish itself within his heart. If that person continues along this course he will soon lose the sense of evil that is inherent in sin. The person who habitually gives himself over to sin also loses the ability to feel the spiritual "pain" of that sin [see Romans 1:21-32 and Psalm 81:11-12 among other passages]. So what actually happens to people who lose this sense? Consider the leper who experiences a similar thing physically in his body. Having lost sensation in his extremities and his face, he is becomes terribly and sometimes fatally injured because he is unaware of the traumas that he has suffered. In the spiritual realm, this an excellent living picture of the hardening of the soul that occurs inside the person who remains in unrepentant sin. As his heart becomes slowly calloused, the spiritual system God constructed within him slowly loses its ability to detect the damage being done to it. It is little wonder that "Christian" men in habitual sexual sin can sit in church week after week, singing songs of worship to a God they continue to defy. "Hardened by the deceitfulness of sin," [Hebrews 3:13] their entire beings are riddled with a leprosy of evil which they can no longer even detect!
At this point I want to harken back to a blog entry I wrote on December 17, 2009 regarding the searing of King Herod Antipas' conscience. Herod had seduced his sister-in-law, Herodias, and then persuaded her to leave her husband, Herod Philip, to marry him. Of course this was completely forbidden under Jewish law. John the Baptist had told Herod [Mark 6:18] that "it was not lawful for you to have your brother's wife" and so for very personal reasons, "Herodias nursed a grudge against John and wanted to kill him" [v. 19]. But she was not able to do so because Herod feared John and protected him [despite having thrown him into a dungeon prison under his palace] because he considered "him to be a righteous and holy man." When Herod would hear John, he would become "greatly puzzled" and yet he still "liked to listen to him." One has to wonder WHY? John must have been a breath of fresh air amidst the debauchery of Herod's court. Perhaps Herod's spirit would feel inexplicably elevated in John's presence. Perhaps there were even some failed attempts at self-reformation. Nonetheless, Herod's discomforting fear of John was evidence that his conscience was at least stirred by John's words.
But in a trying and drunken moment following the seductive dance of Herodias' daughter, Salome, he unwisely promised to give her anything up to half his kingdom and with that, Herodias' trap was perfectly set. Salome demanded John's head on a platter ... and for a few moments the room went silent and Herod's soul teetered in the balance ... the Scriptures use a word for an anguish of the soul that was only used one other time in the entire New Testament and that was of Jesus' anguish the night before his crucifixion as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. For just a few moments Herod was having a crisis of conscience! There was at last a least a flickering of life. For just an instant, anything was possible, including his repentance.
But ultimately, fearing more what both his friends and even what Rome would think than the price his soul would pay, he ordered John's beheading. What a heartbreaking turn of events! Herod's conscience had begun to speak one last time, but he silenced it because he feared loss of reputation, he feared his "honor" would be besmirched, he feared what others might think and even that he might lose his position. Sadly, now only a deep and gaping darkness awaited Herod.
Fast forward to Jesus' trial before Herod. When Pilate transferred Jesus' case to Herod, he was thrilled ... but for all the wrong reasons. He had no spiritual interest in seeing Jesus as he had John in the past. Now it was all about SHOWTIME! He wanted to see a miracle [Luke 23:8]. He no longer had any spiritual fear or trepidation. His murder of John had produced an incapacity to see anything in Jesus. And Jesus gave Herod no response whatsoever, despite a very lengthy interrogation [Luke 23:9]. In contrast, Jesus was willing to reason with the scandalous high priest Caiaphas and even to prophesy to him [Luke 22:69, 70]. He conversed with Pilate and gave him very substantive answers to ponder [Luke 23:3; John 18:33-38]. He grieved over Judas in the Upper Room as he reached out for his very soul. But before Herod, he maintained a dreadful silence. Herod's days of grace were long since over. His conscience had long since been seared and could no longer respond! But beyond even lacking enough life in his soul to respond to the grace of almighty God standing right in front of him, he went even further and openly mocked Christ effectively holding the God of the universe in contempt.
What does it mean to have one's conscience seared? There have been many answers to this question over the centuries. Adam Clarke described it as "One cauterized by repeated applications of sin, and resistings of the Holy Ghost ..." The Fausett Bible Dictionary explains it as "... a harded determination to resist every spiritual impression ..." The Pulpit Commentary said it is "the gradual deterioration of sensibility produced by habitual sin." I especially like John Wesley's rendering as a "drunkenness of soul, a fatal numbness of spirit ... " Clearly it would seem that if one remains in sin long enough, he can reach a point of no return. A point where he is no longer influenced by the Holy Spirit. This is what the Bible terms apostacy.
How can a man know if he has gone too far? The very concern over such a possibility reveals the fact that there remains hope for him. Apostates, having lost all sense of morality, have no concern over such matters. And when a man in habitual sin repents, his hardened heart begins again to soften and he will gradually begin to feel the conviction of sin once again. Finally, he returns to the place where God can reach him and help him overcome. As the writer of Hebrews proclaimed, "How much more will the blood of Christ ... cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?" [Hebrews 9:14]
The silence of Jesus before Herod is both a shocking and dramatic example not to trifle with holy things and not to suppress the nudgings of the Holy Spirit in our souls. We never know, on this side of eternity, when will be the last time our spirits will hear His call. "Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts..." [Psalm 95:7, 8]. May we always have ears to hear.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Living Stones in a Spiritual House
"As you come to Him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.
'Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in Him will not be put to shame.'
So the honor is for you who believe, but those who do not believe,
'The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone,' and 'A stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense.'
They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do. But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy" 1 Peter 2:4-10.
On the day when the young Hebrew exile Daniel entered the throne room of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, the lives of many hung in the balance. The king's sleep had left him, and his spirit troubled him on account of a terrifying dream. The king had threatened to take the lives of all his counselors if they could not interpret his dream. But to Daniel -- the exile [remember we all the elect exiles of the dispersion now] -- God made everything known. So he entered the throne room, and said in effect:
"You saw, O King, a great image, and its appearance was frightening. The head of the image was of fine gold. Its chest and arms were of silver. Its middle and thighs were of bronze. Its legs were of iron and its feet partly iron and clay Then a stone was cut out of a mountain not made with hands, and the stone struck the image and broke it into pieces. The interpretation, O King, is this: the precious metals are kingdoms -- and you are the head made of fine gold. The stone, however, is the coming kingdom of God. And it shall stand forever, and of its increase there shall be no end" Daniel 2:31-45.
Daniel was not the only one in Israel's history who spoke of God's kingdom as a stone. Isaiah had seen a stone in a vision God had given him years before.
"Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious" Isaiah 28:16.
The psalmist also spoke of a cornerstone that would bring salvation to all who believed as well as a stone that would be a stumbling-block for those who reject it [Psalm 118:22]. And so, deeply imbedded in the stratta of Israel's rich history was the conviction that she was God's promised kingdom -- that Jerusalem was God's saving city and that the temple stood at the center of God's activity in the world.
Centuries later a young, impoverished itinerant preacher from Galilee named Jesus would come along and take all the imagery of the stone passages in the Hebrew Scriptures and commit the unpardonable sin of applying them to Himself instead of to Judaism, the city or the temple. Luke records the day when Jesus came through the stone gates of Zion, that great city, and stood in the temple teaching with authority. When the religious leaders asked Him, "By what authority do you do this?" He responded by telling a parable of wicked tenants who rejected the authority of the vineyard owner's son. The leaders knew, of course, that the story had been directed against them, and they took issue with it [Luke 20:9-18].
In defending Himself, Jesus provoked them further by quoting from the psalmist about the rejected stone of God. And then, most amazingly of all, Jesus alluded to the prophet Daniel and took upon Himself the stone not made with hands -- the one that would come from Heaven and replace all the kingdoms of the world. On that storied day, Jesus of Nazareth stole all of Israel's strong poetic and prophetic stone imagery and called it His own. In essence He proclaimed that in Him all the promises of God are being fulfilled.
It is in the light of all this rich and contested history regarding Israel's religious identity that Peter -- the one whom Jesus called the "rock [upon whom] I will build my church" writes the passage that headlines this blog entry. These are, indeed, stunning words and elevating beyond measure. In one sentence [vv. 4, 5], Peter grasps the entire wealth of Israel's identity and applies it not to Jesus alone, but to any man, woman or child who comes to faith in Christ!
When we come to Jesus -- not the city of Jerusalem -- we come to the "living stone."
When we come to Jesus -- not to Judaism -- we come into God's kingdom.
When we come to Jesus -- not to the ornate temple -- we become God's "spiritual house" and "holy priesthood."
These phrases applied metaphorically here to Peter's early readers, represent the most exalted ideas within all of Judaism. After all, the spiritual house was the temple. If God was going to dwell anywhere in the world, certainly His presence would be there. In addition, the royal priesthood consisted of those honored ones who had the privilege of standing in the very presence of God. Yet now, following Jesus' example in usurping these ideas, Peter claims that in Christ these truths are likewise transferred over to every follower of Jesus. In essence the church has become God's people and God's place in the world. What a concept to encourage those struggling so much just to get by or even for us 2000 years later. To go from being far off the beaten path; geographically removed from Jerusalem's great stone temple, the place of culture and religious action in the world now being dispersed, many very far from home -- not merely from Heaven -- to being proclaimed by the great apostle as being at the very heart and center of God's activity in the world. It is really unimaginable.
How inspiring is it to be reminded by Peter that if we have come to Jesus as God's "living stone" then we are at the center of what God is doing in the world? We are God's spiritual house. This cuts across any idea that we need a "sacred space." God's people are now His sacred space. The Scriptures do away with any idea of being at home anywhere outside of faith in Christ. His Spirit indwells us. There is no longer any need to lean on brick and mortar [this coming from a former architecture student no less] in an effort to get close to God. We can't get any closer to God than through our faith in Christ.
And not only this but Peter bestows a second new identification tag on his reader ... priesthood. The priesthood, of course, began with Moses and Aaron. And it was Moses and Aaron who stood before a holy God on behalf of a sinful people. In some respects they functioned as intermediaries between God and the world. As such, the priests were the ones most intimately acquainted with God. Now consider the impact of Peter's text in light of Israel's priestly history. Peter calls all believers a "holy" and a "royal priesthood" meaning that we are the ultimate insiders. We are not to be merely representative of God's place in the world; we are to serve as God's priests before the world. What an encouraging word for those Peter identified in 1:1 as "exiles." The ones who struggled with the sense of being outsiders now see in a fresh way that they are very dear to God indeed. So be encouraged.
'Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in Him will not be put to shame.'
So the honor is for you who believe, but those who do not believe,
'The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone,' and 'A stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense.'
They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do. But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy" 1 Peter 2:4-10.
On the day when the young Hebrew exile Daniel entered the throne room of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, the lives of many hung in the balance. The king's sleep had left him, and his spirit troubled him on account of a terrifying dream. The king had threatened to take the lives of all his counselors if they could not interpret his dream. But to Daniel -- the exile [remember we all the elect exiles of the dispersion now] -- God made everything known. So he entered the throne room, and said in effect:
"You saw, O King, a great image, and its appearance was frightening. The head of the image was of fine gold. Its chest and arms were of silver. Its middle and thighs were of bronze. Its legs were of iron and its feet partly iron and clay Then a stone was cut out of a mountain not made with hands, and the stone struck the image and broke it into pieces. The interpretation, O King, is this: the precious metals are kingdoms -- and you are the head made of fine gold. The stone, however, is the coming kingdom of God. And it shall stand forever, and of its increase there shall be no end" Daniel 2:31-45.
Daniel was not the only one in Israel's history who spoke of God's kingdom as a stone. Isaiah had seen a stone in a vision God had given him years before.
"Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious" Isaiah 28:16.
The psalmist also spoke of a cornerstone that would bring salvation to all who believed as well as a stone that would be a stumbling-block for those who reject it [Psalm 118:22]. And so, deeply imbedded in the stratta of Israel's rich history was the conviction that she was God's promised kingdom -- that Jerusalem was God's saving city and that the temple stood at the center of God's activity in the world.
Centuries later a young, impoverished itinerant preacher from Galilee named Jesus would come along and take all the imagery of the stone passages in the Hebrew Scriptures and commit the unpardonable sin of applying them to Himself instead of to Judaism, the city or the temple. Luke records the day when Jesus came through the stone gates of Zion, that great city, and stood in the temple teaching with authority. When the religious leaders asked Him, "By what authority do you do this?" He responded by telling a parable of wicked tenants who rejected the authority of the vineyard owner's son. The leaders knew, of course, that the story had been directed against them, and they took issue with it [Luke 20:9-18].
In defending Himself, Jesus provoked them further by quoting from the psalmist about the rejected stone of God. And then, most amazingly of all, Jesus alluded to the prophet Daniel and took upon Himself the stone not made with hands -- the one that would come from Heaven and replace all the kingdoms of the world. On that storied day, Jesus of Nazareth stole all of Israel's strong poetic and prophetic stone imagery and called it His own. In essence He proclaimed that in Him all the promises of God are being fulfilled.
It is in the light of all this rich and contested history regarding Israel's religious identity that Peter -- the one whom Jesus called the "rock [upon whom] I will build my church" writes the passage that headlines this blog entry. These are, indeed, stunning words and elevating beyond measure. In one sentence [vv. 4, 5], Peter grasps the entire wealth of Israel's identity and applies it not to Jesus alone, but to any man, woman or child who comes to faith in Christ!
When we come to Jesus -- not the city of Jerusalem -- we come to the "living stone."
When we come to Jesus -- not to Judaism -- we come into God's kingdom.
When we come to Jesus -- not to the ornate temple -- we become God's "spiritual house" and "holy priesthood."
These phrases applied metaphorically here to Peter's early readers, represent the most exalted ideas within all of Judaism. After all, the spiritual house was the temple. If God was going to dwell anywhere in the world, certainly His presence would be there. In addition, the royal priesthood consisted of those honored ones who had the privilege of standing in the very presence of God. Yet now, following Jesus' example in usurping these ideas, Peter claims that in Christ these truths are likewise transferred over to every follower of Jesus. In essence the church has become God's people and God's place in the world. What a concept to encourage those struggling so much just to get by or even for us 2000 years later. To go from being far off the beaten path; geographically removed from Jerusalem's great stone temple, the place of culture and religious action in the world now being dispersed, many very far from home -- not merely from Heaven -- to being proclaimed by the great apostle as being at the very heart and center of God's activity in the world. It is really unimaginable.
How inspiring is it to be reminded by Peter that if we have come to Jesus as God's "living stone" then we are at the center of what God is doing in the world? We are God's spiritual house. This cuts across any idea that we need a "sacred space." God's people are now His sacred space. The Scriptures do away with any idea of being at home anywhere outside of faith in Christ. His Spirit indwells us. There is no longer any need to lean on brick and mortar [this coming from a former architecture student no less] in an effort to get close to God. We can't get any closer to God than through our faith in Christ.
And not only this but Peter bestows a second new identification tag on his reader ... priesthood. The priesthood, of course, began with Moses and Aaron. And it was Moses and Aaron who stood before a holy God on behalf of a sinful people. In some respects they functioned as intermediaries between God and the world. As such, the priests were the ones most intimately acquainted with God. Now consider the impact of Peter's text in light of Israel's priestly history. Peter calls all believers a "holy" and a "royal priesthood" meaning that we are the ultimate insiders. We are not to be merely representative of God's place in the world; we are to serve as God's priests before the world. What an encouraging word for those Peter identified in 1:1 as "exiles." The ones who struggled with the sense of being outsiders now see in a fresh way that they are very dear to God indeed. So be encouraged.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
From "Hollow Men" to a Living Hope
In 1925 T. S. Eliot gave the world his poem "The Hollow Men." In it he forces us to face down the angst and despair that so often accompanies human existence. His poem begins:
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass.
Eliot's metaphor for humanity is especially haunting -- "as wind in dry grass." We are spoken of as being arid and hot; our voices are dried up, and we merely whisper. We are incapable of great usefulness, except perhaps as kindling for starting a fire. He wants us to see ourselves as being without water -- incapable of bringing refreshment, let alone life to anything. Like scarecrows we are hollow men without life or hope or connection to the source of blessing.
Eliot's image is a good one to describe Peter's readers before they had ever heard the gospel preaching that filled their lives with good news. After all, before coming to faith in Christ their circumstances were as dry as their souls. By and large they were a people who lived far off the beaten path. Together they shared the unhappy distinction of being dispersed in arid and out-of-the-way places. For the most part, his readers spent their lives away from the refreshing centers of culture [remind anyone of life in Tallahassee?].
Spiritually they had been dry too. Souls parched and longing for life. But then, through Peter or perhaps someone else, we are simply not told, they got wind of the source of all life. They heard about Jesus and His gospel. And as their faith attests, they drank deeply and were born again. They had gone from being hollow men to holy saints -- "born again to a living hope" and an eternal "inheritance" [1:3, 4].
In coming to Christ, they exchanged Eliot's lines for the verse of another poet -- one named Isaiah who Peter quotes in 1:23-25:
" ... since you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God; for
'All flesh is like grass
and all its glory like the flower of the grass.
The grass withers,
and the flower fall,
but the word of the Lord remains forever.'
And this word is the good news that was preached to you."
These are the words of the poetic prophet at his best. For they remind us that it is the word of the Lord that make all the difference in this world of hollow men. And yet by the time Peter picked up his pen to write, it appears that the sagebrush of the soul had swept through their towns. Their rising life in Christ had been eclipsed by difficulties. Trials had been their lot. Some were despairing. Most were feeling as if they had lost their way in the world. Collectively, the elect of God were again succumbing to exilic homesickness. Simply put, they were discouraged. And so Peter writes to them.
He opens by reminding them of salvation's future reward in vv. 3-5 as he speaks of "a salvation to be revealed at the last time." He then elaborates on salvation's present adversity in vv. 6-9 as he refers to a salvation only won by present trials. And then he closes his introduction by describing salvation's past glories in vv. 10-12 when he speaks of a salvation with a rich prophetic past.
For the first time, in vv. 10-12, Peter formally introduces us to past Hebrew prophets. He writes of "prophets who prophesied." The prophets were some of Israel's ancient officeholders, beginning with Moses. The institution of the prophetic office can be found in Deuteronomy 18 where at that point in the narrative of God's grace, the writer is recounting the period when God's people had reached Mt. Sinai after the exodus from Egypt. Initially God spoke to them in the hearing of all the people which they largely found terrifying. So they, instead, asked if God would speak them through the voice of Moses. God condescended to their request and in doing so instituted the prophetic office.
All of Israel's prophets, from Moses onward, stood in the presence of God in order to receive God's word and then spoke that word in the presence of all the people. What Peter is telling his readers in v. 10 [Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully] is that the prophets' best days were spent searching out salvation's fulfillment. They were men who studied long and hard. They literally pored over God's word even as He was giving it to them. As v. 11 continues [inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when He predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories].
In essence, these words show us that the prophets were given a particular insight into salvation's mystery -- that Christ would be a suffering Christ -- and that only after suffering would He be given subsequent glories. For the typical first century religious Jew, this thought was simply unacceptable. They wanted a Christ of glory and they had no time for a Messiah given over to suffering. Yet Peter's early readers had been saved by just such a gospel. For the discouraged believer this reminder would likely have been greatly encouraging. The life they were living, filled as it was with trials and sufferings, mirrored the life of the Messiah, in whom they had put their trust.
The encouragement Peter had already given them would only continue to swell when they read his words in the opening line of v. 12: "It was revealed to them that they were serving not themselves but you." These words likely did more for Peter's early readers than we can possibly imagine. Did he really say that the prophets knew that they were not serving their own generation but ours??? Did he just imply that they were aware that God had put them to work on our behalf? Any thoughts that God didn't care about them or that they had never been a part of anything great were now quieted. For Peter had shown them that the prophets were the true outsiders, not themselves. The prophets of the past were the ones kept from seeing salvation's fullness. In fact, for the most part the prophets outdid them all in having to endure rejection and loss.
Such is the reward of the prophet. They were largely rejected in their own day. They served another time. They couldn't understand salvation as clearly as they would have liked and they were often physically impaired as a result of their work. Peter's first readers no doubt were deeply humbled by this fresh consideration of salvation's past glories. The extent to which God went to secure both their and our salvation was borne with a cost, not only to Himself, not only to His Son, but it also cost the prophets greatly as well. This should humble us as well. We know nothing of this kind of suffering.
We might be right to ask or wonder what enabled God's prophets to go on? But v. 11 reveals the answer to be "the Spirit of Christ in them" who kept them going. Christ Himself is depicted as a wind blowing gently through the prophets as they told about the coming Christ. It was the Spirit of Christ who enabled the prophets to pore over their sermons and visions. It was Christ in them who kept them reading the scrolls of other prophets who had gone before. Ultimately, we could say that in this first chapter Peter has moved his readers from Eliot's wind as through dry grass to the Word and the Spirit's breath and finally then to Christ who brings life to all.
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass.
Eliot's metaphor for humanity is especially haunting -- "as wind in dry grass." We are spoken of as being arid and hot; our voices are dried up, and we merely whisper. We are incapable of great usefulness, except perhaps as kindling for starting a fire. He wants us to see ourselves as being without water -- incapable of bringing refreshment, let alone life to anything. Like scarecrows we are hollow men without life or hope or connection to the source of blessing.
Eliot's image is a good one to describe Peter's readers before they had ever heard the gospel preaching that filled their lives with good news. After all, before coming to faith in Christ their circumstances were as dry as their souls. By and large they were a people who lived far off the beaten path. Together they shared the unhappy distinction of being dispersed in arid and out-of-the-way places. For the most part, his readers spent their lives away from the refreshing centers of culture [remind anyone of life in Tallahassee?].
Spiritually they had been dry too. Souls parched and longing for life. But then, through Peter or perhaps someone else, we are simply not told, they got wind of the source of all life. They heard about Jesus and His gospel. And as their faith attests, they drank deeply and were born again. They had gone from being hollow men to holy saints -- "born again to a living hope" and an eternal "inheritance" [1:3, 4].
In coming to Christ, they exchanged Eliot's lines for the verse of another poet -- one named Isaiah who Peter quotes in 1:23-25:
" ... since you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God; for
'All flesh is like grass
and all its glory like the flower of the grass.
The grass withers,
and the flower fall,
but the word of the Lord remains forever.'
And this word is the good news that was preached to you."
These are the words of the poetic prophet at his best. For they remind us that it is the word of the Lord that make all the difference in this world of hollow men. And yet by the time Peter picked up his pen to write, it appears that the sagebrush of the soul had swept through their towns. Their rising life in Christ had been eclipsed by difficulties. Trials had been their lot. Some were despairing. Most were feeling as if they had lost their way in the world. Collectively, the elect of God were again succumbing to exilic homesickness. Simply put, they were discouraged. And so Peter writes to them.
He opens by reminding them of salvation's future reward in vv. 3-5 as he speaks of "a salvation to be revealed at the last time." He then elaborates on salvation's present adversity in vv. 6-9 as he refers to a salvation only won by present trials. And then he closes his introduction by describing salvation's past glories in vv. 10-12 when he speaks of a salvation with a rich prophetic past.
For the first time, in vv. 10-12, Peter formally introduces us to past Hebrew prophets. He writes of "prophets who prophesied." The prophets were some of Israel's ancient officeholders, beginning with Moses. The institution of the prophetic office can be found in Deuteronomy 18 where at that point in the narrative of God's grace, the writer is recounting the period when God's people had reached Mt. Sinai after the exodus from Egypt. Initially God spoke to them in the hearing of all the people which they largely found terrifying. So they, instead, asked if God would speak them through the voice of Moses. God condescended to their request and in doing so instituted the prophetic office.
All of Israel's prophets, from Moses onward, stood in the presence of God in order to receive God's word and then spoke that word in the presence of all the people. What Peter is telling his readers in v. 10 [Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully] is that the prophets' best days were spent searching out salvation's fulfillment. They were men who studied long and hard. They literally pored over God's word even as He was giving it to them. As v. 11 continues [inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when He predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories].
In essence, these words show us that the prophets were given a particular insight into salvation's mystery -- that Christ would be a suffering Christ -- and that only after suffering would He be given subsequent glories. For the typical first century religious Jew, this thought was simply unacceptable. They wanted a Christ of glory and they had no time for a Messiah given over to suffering. Yet Peter's early readers had been saved by just such a gospel. For the discouraged believer this reminder would likely have been greatly encouraging. The life they were living, filled as it was with trials and sufferings, mirrored the life of the Messiah, in whom they had put their trust.
The encouragement Peter had already given them would only continue to swell when they read his words in the opening line of v. 12: "It was revealed to them that they were serving not themselves but you." These words likely did more for Peter's early readers than we can possibly imagine. Did he really say that the prophets knew that they were not serving their own generation but ours??? Did he just imply that they were aware that God had put them to work on our behalf? Any thoughts that God didn't care about them or that they had never been a part of anything great were now quieted. For Peter had shown them that the prophets were the true outsiders, not themselves. The prophets of the past were the ones kept from seeing salvation's fullness. In fact, for the most part the prophets outdid them all in having to endure rejection and loss.
Such is the reward of the prophet. They were largely rejected in their own day. They served another time. They couldn't understand salvation as clearly as they would have liked and they were often physically impaired as a result of their work. Peter's first readers no doubt were deeply humbled by this fresh consideration of salvation's past glories. The extent to which God went to secure both their and our salvation was borne with a cost, not only to Himself, not only to His Son, but it also cost the prophets greatly as well. This should humble us as well. We know nothing of this kind of suffering.
We might be right to ask or wonder what enabled God's prophets to go on? But v. 11 reveals the answer to be "the Spirit of Christ in them" who kept them going. Christ Himself is depicted as a wind blowing gently through the prophets as they told about the coming Christ. It was the Spirit of Christ who enabled the prophets to pore over their sermons and visions. It was Christ in them who kept them reading the scrolls of other prophets who had gone before. Ultimately, we could say that in this first chapter Peter has moved his readers from Eliot's wind as through dry grass to the Word and the Spirit's breath and finally then to Christ who brings life to all.
Modern Day "Elect Exiles of the Dispersion"
The word "elect" as used in Scripture simply means "chosen." Throughout the Bible chosen is the intimate term most often used to speak of those whom God loves [see Ezekiel 16:4-14 as one of many Old Testament examples]. The passage I've alluded to is a word picture of Israel becoming God's chosen through His electing love. Although born helpless and vulnerable they were given life through God's selecting love. The term elect is meant to encourage us as the church as well. It is to remind the people of God of His great love for them. And it should not be a term to be waved in front of those who have yet to know God.
Remember that the term elect, in all its grandeur, was given in the Old Testament to the entire household of Israel. Unfortunately, history shows that Israel began to presume upon God's good grace. As special recipients of His love, they believed they would always know His goodness. Over time their familiarity with God worked against them. They felt they were entitled to the good life even when their affections for God declined. Presumptuous sin became the unfortunate companion of God's elect. During the days of the kings, they turned away from God and forfeited the glory of His approval. As a result, the great nation was carried off into exile; in other words, they were dispersed by God. In 1 Peter 1:1 we see the term "exiles of the dispersion" now for the first time joined to the term elect.
Israel knew something of lost glory. They knew, all too well, that the term elect does at times stand beside the phrase exiles of the dispersion -- beloved by God, yet seemingly left alone in the world. In Peter's letter, he does not hesitate to place these terms alongside one another to identify his readers. How strange. One would have thought that putting these words together would be like mixing oil with water. Yet for Peter, it is no trouble at all.
Yet there is one major difference in the way Peter uses the terms. As his letter unfolds, it becomes clear to us that he believes his readers to be exiles of a different sort. Their exilic identity has nothing to do with Israel's sin -- or their own. Their exilic state is not the result of their disobedience to God. In fact, all the evidence in the letter demonstrates that they were living faithful and fruitful lives in obedience to Christ [see 1:2]. For Peter then the phrase elect exiles of the dispersion depicts the normative state of any follower of Jesus, so long as he or she remains in this world.
In this sense, Peter's early readers were not so very different from you and me. They were men and women who had come into relationship with God through faith in Christ and as such remained on the outside of everything in this world. C.S. Lewis stated that the normative condition of the Christian as elect exiles in this way: "At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendors we see. But all of the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in."
In Christ we are God's chosen, His elect in all the earth. And yet we are living our lives out in a complex and often confusing context. We are capable of waking up each morning with joy in our souls and going to bed dejected in spirit. Many Christians today have trouble sorting out these complexities in their identities in Christ. They have been raised to believe that a Christian should only experience the joys of being in God's elect. They have been taught nothing of our exilic state. With three simple words in the opening of this letter, Peter gives us the biblical corrective. We are "the elect exiles of the dispersion." So take heart. Be encouraged. We are those who are chosen by God AND called to live in this world. As we read further, we see Peter's desire is for us to both experience God's grace and to know His peace. But also know that we won't ever fully know all that this can truly mean until we are finally home.
Remember that the term elect, in all its grandeur, was given in the Old Testament to the entire household of Israel. Unfortunately, history shows that Israel began to presume upon God's good grace. As special recipients of His love, they believed they would always know His goodness. Over time their familiarity with God worked against them. They felt they were entitled to the good life even when their affections for God declined. Presumptuous sin became the unfortunate companion of God's elect. During the days of the kings, they turned away from God and forfeited the glory of His approval. As a result, the great nation was carried off into exile; in other words, they were dispersed by God. In 1 Peter 1:1 we see the term "exiles of the dispersion" now for the first time joined to the term elect.
Israel knew something of lost glory. They knew, all too well, that the term elect does at times stand beside the phrase exiles of the dispersion -- beloved by God, yet seemingly left alone in the world. In Peter's letter, he does not hesitate to place these terms alongside one another to identify his readers. How strange. One would have thought that putting these words together would be like mixing oil with water. Yet for Peter, it is no trouble at all.
Yet there is one major difference in the way Peter uses the terms. As his letter unfolds, it becomes clear to us that he believes his readers to be exiles of a different sort. Their exilic identity has nothing to do with Israel's sin -- or their own. Their exilic state is not the result of their disobedience to God. In fact, all the evidence in the letter demonstrates that they were living faithful and fruitful lives in obedience to Christ [see 1:2]. For Peter then the phrase elect exiles of the dispersion depicts the normative state of any follower of Jesus, so long as he or she remains in this world.
In this sense, Peter's early readers were not so very different from you and me. They were men and women who had come into relationship with God through faith in Christ and as such remained on the outside of everything in this world. C.S. Lewis stated that the normative condition of the Christian as elect exiles in this way: "At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendors we see. But all of the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in."
In Christ we are God's chosen, His elect in all the earth. And yet we are living our lives out in a complex and often confusing context. We are capable of waking up each morning with joy in our souls and going to bed dejected in spirit. Many Christians today have trouble sorting out these complexities in their identities in Christ. They have been raised to believe that a Christian should only experience the joys of being in God's elect. They have been taught nothing of our exilic state. With three simple words in the opening of this letter, Peter gives us the biblical corrective. We are "the elect exiles of the dispersion." So take heart. Be encouraged. We are those who are chosen by God AND called to live in this world. As we read further, we see Peter's desire is for us to both experience God's grace and to know His peace. But also know that we won't ever fully know all that this can truly mean until we are finally home.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The Paradox of the True Believer's Life -- 1 Peter
Life is difficult. Yet this harsh truth has not always been understood by those following Jesus Christ [or by most Americans in particular]. Many Christians today have trouble sorting out the complexity of their identity and calling in Christ. They have been reared to believe that a Christian should only experience the joys of being one of God's elect. Yet they have been taught nothing of our exilic state. With three simple words as Peter opens his letter he gives us a profound clue for finding life's true horizon. We are the elect exiles of the dispersion [1:1].
How exactly did this phrase come to describe the true state of Christians in every age? "According to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in the sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and for sprinkling with His blood" [1:2]. Our soul rises in joy and falls in sorrow on the same day "according to the foreknowledge of God the Father." We are God's beloved, and yet we can be carried off into exile like Daniel of old "in the sanctification of the Spirit." We remain outside of the world in which we live "for obedience to Jesus Christ." And we are all these things as a fragrant offering in Christ's blood. According to Peter, we owe our full identity as "elect exiles" to the mysterious plan of God.
Throughout the Scriptures, the way up comes by going down; restoration comes after trials [5:10]. It is this inversion in attaining glory that marks Peter's theme throughout his letter. Our future inheritance and exaltation as believers -- our eternal share in the glory of Christ -- will be awarded to us on the day of His appearing. But that promised day comes only after this brief season of present-day sufferings. For suffering always precedes glory. As it was for God's Son, so it will be for us who are in Him.
This bringing together of two seemingly incompatible truths -- our status in Christ and our sufferings on earth -- is how Peter begins his letter [1:1, 2]. And in the body of the letter, these incompatible ideas are continually linked to one another. In 1:3-12 we see that an eternal inheritance is joined to various trials ... in other words salvation's future goal is built upon our present struggles as well our past glories.
Ultimately, the divine principle of "true grace" [5:12] is this: God has established our salvation, given us our identity, confirmed our present-day calling, and secured our future inheritance by means of an inverted irony -- namely, the death, resurrection and ascension of Christ. Therefore, just as the exaltation of Jesus followed a season of humiliation, so too our share in His eternal glory will appear only after we have learned to follow in His true and gracious ways.
How exactly did this phrase come to describe the true state of Christians in every age? "According to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in the sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and for sprinkling with His blood" [1:2]. Our soul rises in joy and falls in sorrow on the same day "according to the foreknowledge of God the Father." We are God's beloved, and yet we can be carried off into exile like Daniel of old "in the sanctification of the Spirit." We remain outside of the world in which we live "for obedience to Jesus Christ." And we are all these things as a fragrant offering in Christ's blood. According to Peter, we owe our full identity as "elect exiles" to the mysterious plan of God.
Throughout the Scriptures, the way up comes by going down; restoration comes after trials [5:10]. It is this inversion in attaining glory that marks Peter's theme throughout his letter. Our future inheritance and exaltation as believers -- our eternal share in the glory of Christ -- will be awarded to us on the day of His appearing. But that promised day comes only after this brief season of present-day sufferings. For suffering always precedes glory. As it was for God's Son, so it will be for us who are in Him.
This bringing together of two seemingly incompatible truths -- our status in Christ and our sufferings on earth -- is how Peter begins his letter [1:1, 2]. And in the body of the letter, these incompatible ideas are continually linked to one another. In 1:3-12 we see that an eternal inheritance is joined to various trials ... in other words salvation's future goal is built upon our present struggles as well our past glories.
Ultimately, the divine principle of "true grace" [5:12] is this: God has established our salvation, given us our identity, confirmed our present-day calling, and secured our future inheritance by means of an inverted irony -- namely, the death, resurrection and ascension of Christ. Therefore, just as the exaltation of Jesus followed a season of humiliation, so too our share in His eternal glory will appear only after we have learned to follow in His true and gracious ways.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Leprosy of the Soul
Leprosy, today called Hansen's disease after the man who discovered its root cause, is not a rotting infection as it was thought from biblical times to the early 2oth century, nor are the horrible outward physical deformities directly imposed by the infection. The research of doctor and missionary Paul Brand as well as others has proven that the disfigurement associated with Hansen's disease results solely from the destruction of the body's warning system of pain. As such the disease causes a complete numbness to the extremities as well as to the ears, eyes and nose. The devastation that follows comes from unnoticed trauma to the affected areas which can be as subtle as washing one's face and hands with water that is too hot or walking on surfaces that are too warm on a hot summer day. Or from gripping a hoe too tightly while working in the fields or even from wearing one's shoes too snugly or from stepping on sharp objects without notice. Ultimately, great trauma is done to the hands, feet and face causing them to become mere stumps. Dr. Brand calls the disease a "painless hell," and it truly is.
The unfortunate man that Jesus met in Matthew 8:1-3 as He came down from the mountain had not been able to feel for years. His body was mutilated from head to toe and was foul and rotting. We can hardly imagine the humiliation and isolation of a leper's life [see Leviticus 13:45]. He was ostracized from society and had to assume a disheveled appearance. And then there was the ultimate degradation, having to cry "Unclean! Unclean!" whenever he came in range of the normal population. Lepers were typically beggars as there was little else they could do. Josephus, the famous Jewish historian, summed it up by saying that lepers were treated "as if they were, in effect, dead men."
In addition to this, it was thought that those who had leprosy had contracted it because of some great personal sin. People jumped to this erroneous conclusion because in past history such people as Miriam, King Uzziah, and Gehazi had been judged with leprosy. In reality, however, the plight of the leper more illustrated the effect of sin than it portrayed its root cause as the leper was not any more or less sinful than anyone else.
Moreover, now that the microbiology and pathophysiology of leprosy has been fully elucidated [a slow, progressive infection of the peripheral neural tissue by a bacterium in the tuberculosis family, Mycobacterium leprae] we now see the leper as a parable of sin -- an outward and visible sign of innermost corruption. The leper is the physical illustration of the heart of every human being! If for a moment we could see a visible incarnation of ourselves apart from the cleansing work of Christ, we would see ourselves as the walking dead -- forms dead in their trespasses and sins -- forms trying to cover themselves with filthy rags.
Christ meeting the leper as he descended the mount was no chance encounter. It was divinely orchestrated and choreographed. "When He came down from the mountainside, large crowds followed him." A vast throng had attended His teaching, and now they descended the slope together, having heard the greatest sermon ever preached. What a magnificent scene it must have been. But then something startling happened, for Matthew adds, "A man with leprosy came and knelt before Him." No doubt the din of the descending multitude was considerable, but above it, persistent and clear, was heard "Unclean! Unclean!" The leper steadily made his way to Jesus as the people fell back on either side, fearing contamination. Perhaps some cursed him, but he kept coming until he was almost to Jesus, crying the refrain of his pitiful life -- "Unclean! Unclean!" Then the Master was face to face with foul, decaying leper, "covered with leprosy" from head to toe.
Here we see the first and fundamental qualification for obtaining the healing touch of Jesus -- an awareness of one's condition. The poor man not only said he was unclean -- he knew he was. Moreover, he saw himself as perfectly hopeless. There was nothing he could do to help himself. Everyone else had probably given up on him too. His many years of illness probably meant that even some, if not most, in his family had ceased praying for him. He was painfully aware of his condition, and in this he exemplified the blessed spiritual awareness found in the very first words of Christ's great sermon: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" [Matthew 5:3, 4].
The man had spent years mourning his condition. The pitiful refrain, "Unclean! Unclean!" had shaped his whole psyche and no doubt that very theological truth had permeated his heart as well. He acknowledged there was nothing within him that would commend him to God. He was thus in the perfect posture to receive grace! God does not come to the self-sufficient, those who think they have no need or imagine that they can make it own their own. He comes to the bankrupt in spirit, those who mourn their condition. It is entirely possible and even probable that the leper had been sitting beyond the range of the crowd and had been galvanized by Jesus' opening words and His masterful argument that followed. The Holy Spirit caused the truth to pierce his heart and brought him to Jesus as his only hope.
This, too, is the only way that we can come to Christ -- saying, "Unclean! Unclean!" If we come saying, "only partially unclean" or "50% clean," He will not receive us.
We see the second qualification in the first sentence of verse 2: "A man with leprosy came and knelt before him." We see here worshipful submission. The word translated "knelt" takes us into the leper's heart. According to R. Kent Hughes, the basic meaning of the work in early Greek literature was "to kiss," as in kissing the earth as one lay prostrate before the gods. Luke goes further, telling us "he fell on his face" [5:12] which enhances the picture. He worshiped Christ as the only possible source of his healing. The lesson is clear. Christ's healing does not come with casual, irreverent acknowledgment. It comes as we bow before Him in realization that He is our only hope.
The third factor in obtaining the healing touch of Christ is faith. The leper demonstrated remarkable faith as he came and knelt before Christ then said, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." In the original, Mark indicates that he said this several times. Consider the significance of his statement, "You can make me clean." He believed that Jesus could save even him. Often when a person is under the conviction of sin, he secretly fears that he is beyond God's grace. But not the leper.
As the leper lay at Jesus' feet before the multitude, Jesus looked at the leper in a way that the man had never been looked at before. Mark 1:41 says that Jesus was "moved with compassion." Jesus felt the man's pain. Then came the sublime apex of the encounter: "Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man." Perhaps it had been twenty or even thirty years since the leper had been touched by a non-leprous hand. But Christ reached out and touched him. Moreover, the Greek implies more than a casual touch but more like "to take hold of." So at the very least, Christ firmly placed His hand on the leper if He did not embrace him outright. How beautiful Christ is! He did not have to do that. He could have just spoken a word or simply willed the healing. But He chose to lay His hands on the poor man right there in front of the multitude. No doubt the onlookers were appalled and the disciples were likely shocked. Jesus was now ceremonially unclean -- and who knew if He, himself, would not contract the disease.
Why would Jesus do this? Jesus' touch showed that He identified with this man. His touch showed in a literal, tangible way that He was with him, that He understood. But beside the human reasons, there was also an overshadowing theological reason. The touch of Jesus' pure hand on the rotting flesh of the leper was a parable of the Incarnation. In the Incarnation, Jesus took on our flesh, then became sin for us, though He Himself never sinned. Jesus took on our flesh, our sins and our filth. "God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God" [2 Corinthians 5:21]. Jesus lay hold of our flesh and touch us and healed us.
The leper's healing was dramatic. "Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' He said. 'Be clean.' Immediately he was cured of his leprosy." The cleansing was instantaneous. Moreover, it was not some unverifiable case of a mysterious backache or headache going away or of hearing being restored. Everyone saw it -- the face, the brows, the eyelashes, the nose, the ears were all immediately restored. The claw-like hands and the stubs the man called feet were completely whole. No doubt the whole crowd erupted in cheers as the realization of what had just happened set in! We can only guess how the leper reacted. He no longer had to cry out, "Unclean! Unclean!" but more likely changed his refrain to "I'm clean! I'm clean!" And this is what God can do for us as well in a mere split second of belief.
The unfortunate man that Jesus met in Matthew 8:1-3 as He came down from the mountain had not been able to feel for years. His body was mutilated from head to toe and was foul and rotting. We can hardly imagine the humiliation and isolation of a leper's life [see Leviticus 13:45]. He was ostracized from society and had to assume a disheveled appearance. And then there was the ultimate degradation, having to cry "Unclean! Unclean!" whenever he came in range of the normal population. Lepers were typically beggars as there was little else they could do. Josephus, the famous Jewish historian, summed it up by saying that lepers were treated "as if they were, in effect, dead men."
In addition to this, it was thought that those who had leprosy had contracted it because of some great personal sin. People jumped to this erroneous conclusion because in past history such people as Miriam, King Uzziah, and Gehazi had been judged with leprosy. In reality, however, the plight of the leper more illustrated the effect of sin than it portrayed its root cause as the leper was not any more or less sinful than anyone else.
Moreover, now that the microbiology and pathophysiology of leprosy has been fully elucidated [a slow, progressive infection of the peripheral neural tissue by a bacterium in the tuberculosis family, Mycobacterium leprae] we now see the leper as a parable of sin -- an outward and visible sign of innermost corruption. The leper is the physical illustration of the heart of every human being! If for a moment we could see a visible incarnation of ourselves apart from the cleansing work of Christ, we would see ourselves as the walking dead -- forms dead in their trespasses and sins -- forms trying to cover themselves with filthy rags.
Christ meeting the leper as he descended the mount was no chance encounter. It was divinely orchestrated and choreographed. "When He came down from the mountainside, large crowds followed him." A vast throng had attended His teaching, and now they descended the slope together, having heard the greatest sermon ever preached. What a magnificent scene it must have been. But then something startling happened, for Matthew adds, "A man with leprosy came and knelt before Him." No doubt the din of the descending multitude was considerable, but above it, persistent and clear, was heard "Unclean! Unclean!" The leper steadily made his way to Jesus as the people fell back on either side, fearing contamination. Perhaps some cursed him, but he kept coming until he was almost to Jesus, crying the refrain of his pitiful life -- "Unclean! Unclean!" Then the Master was face to face with foul, decaying leper, "covered with leprosy" from head to toe.
Here we see the first and fundamental qualification for obtaining the healing touch of Jesus -- an awareness of one's condition. The poor man not only said he was unclean -- he knew he was. Moreover, he saw himself as perfectly hopeless. There was nothing he could do to help himself. Everyone else had probably given up on him too. His many years of illness probably meant that even some, if not most, in his family had ceased praying for him. He was painfully aware of his condition, and in this he exemplified the blessed spiritual awareness found in the very first words of Christ's great sermon: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" [Matthew 5:3, 4].
The man had spent years mourning his condition. The pitiful refrain, "Unclean! Unclean!" had shaped his whole psyche and no doubt that very theological truth had permeated his heart as well. He acknowledged there was nothing within him that would commend him to God. He was thus in the perfect posture to receive grace! God does not come to the self-sufficient, those who think they have no need or imagine that they can make it own their own. He comes to the bankrupt in spirit, those who mourn their condition. It is entirely possible and even probable that the leper had been sitting beyond the range of the crowd and had been galvanized by Jesus' opening words and His masterful argument that followed. The Holy Spirit caused the truth to pierce his heart and brought him to Jesus as his only hope.
This, too, is the only way that we can come to Christ -- saying, "Unclean! Unclean!" If we come saying, "only partially unclean" or "50% clean," He will not receive us.
We see the second qualification in the first sentence of verse 2: "A man with leprosy came and knelt before him." We see here worshipful submission. The word translated "knelt" takes us into the leper's heart. According to R. Kent Hughes, the basic meaning of the work in early Greek literature was "to kiss," as in kissing the earth as one lay prostrate before the gods. Luke goes further, telling us "he fell on his face" [5:12] which enhances the picture. He worshiped Christ as the only possible source of his healing. The lesson is clear. Christ's healing does not come with casual, irreverent acknowledgment. It comes as we bow before Him in realization that He is our only hope.
The third factor in obtaining the healing touch of Christ is faith. The leper demonstrated remarkable faith as he came and knelt before Christ then said, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." In the original, Mark indicates that he said this several times. Consider the significance of his statement, "You can make me clean." He believed that Jesus could save even him. Often when a person is under the conviction of sin, he secretly fears that he is beyond God's grace. But not the leper.
As the leper lay at Jesus' feet before the multitude, Jesus looked at the leper in a way that the man had never been looked at before. Mark 1:41 says that Jesus was "moved with compassion." Jesus felt the man's pain. Then came the sublime apex of the encounter: "Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man." Perhaps it had been twenty or even thirty years since the leper had been touched by a non-leprous hand. But Christ reached out and touched him. Moreover, the Greek implies more than a casual touch but more like "to take hold of." So at the very least, Christ firmly placed His hand on the leper if He did not embrace him outright. How beautiful Christ is! He did not have to do that. He could have just spoken a word or simply willed the healing. But He chose to lay His hands on the poor man right there in front of the multitude. No doubt the onlookers were appalled and the disciples were likely shocked. Jesus was now ceremonially unclean -- and who knew if He, himself, would not contract the disease.
Why would Jesus do this? Jesus' touch showed that He identified with this man. His touch showed in a literal, tangible way that He was with him, that He understood. But beside the human reasons, there was also an overshadowing theological reason. The touch of Jesus' pure hand on the rotting flesh of the leper was a parable of the Incarnation. In the Incarnation, Jesus took on our flesh, then became sin for us, though He Himself never sinned. Jesus took on our flesh, our sins and our filth. "God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God" [2 Corinthians 5:21]. Jesus lay hold of our flesh and touch us and healed us.
The leper's healing was dramatic. "Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' He said. 'Be clean.' Immediately he was cured of his leprosy." The cleansing was instantaneous. Moreover, it was not some unverifiable case of a mysterious backache or headache going away or of hearing being restored. Everyone saw it -- the face, the brows, the eyelashes, the nose, the ears were all immediately restored. The claw-like hands and the stubs the man called feet were completely whole. No doubt the whole crowd erupted in cheers as the realization of what had just happened set in! We can only guess how the leper reacted. He no longer had to cry out, "Unclean! Unclean!" but more likely changed his refrain to "I'm clean! I'm clean!" And this is what God can do for us as well in a mere split second of belief.
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