Servant God

The Cosmic Conflict Over God’s Trustworthiness

Edited by Dorothee Cole

Proofreading, Page Design, and Layout by Ken McFarland

Cover Design and Illustration by Lars Justinen

Copyright © 2013 by Loma Linda University Press, Loma Linda, California

Printed in the United States of America by Loma Linda University Press

All Rights Reserved

E-mail: info@godscharacter.com

Website: http://servantgod.com

Bible Translations Used:

THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations are from New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicized Edition. Copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture taken from The Message. Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Scriptures and additional materials quoted are from the Good News Bible. Copyright © 1994. Published by the Bible Societies/HarperCollins Publishers Ltd UK, Good News Bible© American Bible Society 1966, 1971, 1976, 1992.

Scripture quotations taken from the New American Standard Bible®. Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

Holy Bible, New Living Translation. Copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved. New Living, NLT, and the New Living Translation logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers.

Scripture is taken from GOD’S WORD®. Copyright © 1995 God’s Word to the Nations. Used by permission of Baker Publishing Group.

Quotations designated (NET) are from the NET Bible®. Copyright ©1996-2006 by Biblical Studies Press, L.L.C. http://netbible.com. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations taken from the Amplified® Bible. Copyright © 1954, 1958, 1962, 1964, 1965, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

Scripture taken from the New Century Version®. Copyright © 2005 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture taken from the Contemporary English Version © 1991, 1992, 1995 by American Bible Society. Used by permission.

Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL READER’S VERSION®.Copyright © 1996, 1998 Biblica. All rights reserved throughout the world. Used by permission of Biblica.

Scripture quotations are taken from the Complete Jewish Bible. Copyright © 1998 by David H. Stern. Published by Jewish New Testament Publications, Inc. www.messianicjewish.net/jntp. Distributed by Messianic Jewish Resources. www.messianicjewish.net. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

The World English Bible and the Douay-Rheims Bible are in the public domain.

Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, TODAY’S NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 2001, 2005 by Biblica®. Used by permission of Biblica®. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotations are from The Complete Bible: An American Translation. Copyright © 1923, 1927, 1948 by The University of Chicago Press. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Free Bible Version: New Testament, 2012. Freely available under a Creative Commons license.

Bible Abbreviations:

New International Version (NIV)

Today’s New International Version (TNIV)

New King James Version (NKJV)

Good News Bible (GNB)

Complete Jewish Bible (CJB)

World English Bible (WEB)

Contemporary English Version (CEV)

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

New Century Version (NCV)

New International Reader’s Version (NIRV)

Amplified Bible (AMP)

GOD’S WORD (GW)

New American Standard Bible (NASB)

New Living Translation (NLT)

The Message (MSG)

NET Bible (NET)

The Complete Bible: An American Translation (Goodspeed)

Free Bible Version: New Testament (FBV)

ISBN: 978-1-59410-020-8

Dedication

To the memory of Manual Silva

friend and partner in the gospel

Contents

Contributors

Preface

Acknowledgments

Authors’ Disclaimer

Introduction

I.     The Very Old Testament

1.   The Cosmic Conflict: The Real “Mother of All Wars” (Brad Cole)

2.   What Is Sin? (Timothy R. Jennings)

3.   Why Do We Suffer? (Dorothee Cole)

4.   Freedom: What’s Love Got to Do with It? (Tom Ewall)

5.   What the Early Christians Believed: The Reality of Cosmic Conflict (Sigve Tonstad)

6.   Why Is the Story of the Cosmic Conflict Important? (Mark Merizan)

II.   The Old Testament

7.   Would You Like to Meet the Old Testament God? (Alden Thompson)

8.   Inspiration (The Bible Says It, but That Doesn’t Settle It) (Brad Cole)

9.   The Great Spectrum of Law  (Virginia Davidson)

10.   The Law: Love in Living Color (Virginia Davidson)

11.   Do You Fear God’s Justice? (Brad Cole)

12.   Spiritual Astigmatism (Scott Bennett)

III.    The New Testament

13.   The Life of Christ (Marco Belmonte)

14.   Parting Words (Larry Ashcraft)

15.   The Cross: Virus Protection for the Mind (Manuel Silva)

16.   At-one-ment (Dorothee Cole)

17.   Roots of Legal Metaphors for Atonement and Salvation (Jean Sheldon)

18.   Freedom in the Truth (A. Loren Smith)

19.   Without the Resurrection of Jesus, All Is Lost (Ken Peterson, Jr.)

20.   The Intercession of Jesus—A Bridge between Heaven and Earth (Cherilyn Clough)

21.   Difficult New Testament Passages (Sue Lewis)

IV.   The Now Testament

22.   A Second Look at the Second Coming (Dorothee Cole)

23.   Good News in the Judgment (Loren Smith)

24.   Intrinsic or Imposed? Thoughts on the Fire of God (Herb Montgomery)

25.   The Wrath of the Lamb (Brad Cole)

V.    The Living Testaments

26.   A Different Kind of Kingdom (Gregory A. Boyd)

27.   Prayer Is Friendship with God (Cherilyn Clough)

28.   Community 101 (Mark Merizan)

29.   Living in, and Looking Like, Christ (Gregory A. Boyd)

Contributors

Larry Ashcraft completed work at Georgia Cumberland Academy, Southern Adventist University, and Andrews University. He has been teaching high school physics and computer science since 1982. He has a lovely, understanding wife, Linda, and two adopted daughters, Claire and Mia. Larry lives in Western North Carolina and enjoys riding road bicycles. Having grown up with a wrench in one hand and a soldering gun in the other, he’s intently interested in the details of how things work—salvation not excluded.

Marco Belmonte has served as a youth pastor for the Seventh-day Adventist Church. He was a speaker at each of the Good News Tour conferences and completed all of the editing and postproduction of the DVD recordings. He is married to Stacie and has the honor of being a positive influence in the lives of her two daughters, Jessica and Catherine. Marco and Stacie also have a son, Ezio.

Scott Bennett, a builder by trade, shares life with his wife, Marlita, six kids, and twenty grandkids (for now). He has lived in Gillette, Wyoming, for the past twenty-nine years. He holds no title or doctorate but has a passion for Jesus, the gospel, music, and understanding Scripture. Scott has spent thirty years in local, conference, and supporting ministries leadership, working with youth, teaching Bible classes, leading mission trips, and participating as a moderator in online discussions for the group that planned the Good News Tour.

Gregory A. Boyd is an internationally recognized theologian, preacher, teacher, apologist, and author. He has been featured on the front page of The New York Times; and on The Charlie Rose Show, CNN, National Public Radio, the BBC, and numerous other television and radio venues. Greg received his Ph.D. degree from Princeton Theological Seminary (summa cum laude, 1988), his M.Div. degree from Yale Divinity School (cum laude, 1982), and his B.A. degree in philosophy from the University of Minnesota (1979). He was a professor of theology for sixteen years at Bethel University (St. Paul, Minnesota), where he received the Teaching Excellence Award and Campus Leadership Award. Greg is cofounder of the Woodland Hills Church in St. Paul, Minnesota, and as senior pastor, he speaks to thousands each week. He has authored or coauthored eighteen books and numerous academic articles, including his best-selling and award-winning Letters From a Skeptic (1994, 2008) and his recent books Repenting of Religion (2004) and The Myth of a Christian Nation (2005). Greg and his wife, Shelley, have been married for more than thirty-two years; they live in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Cherilyn Clough is a survivor, artist, and writer who loves to tell God stories at the top of her lungs. She grew up afraid of the Father, until she discovered that he is exactly like Jesus. Her passion is to encourage people who struggle with emotional pain about God. She is working on a personal memoir about God and food addiction. You can read her blog, “Chasing Eden,” at cherilyynclough.com. Cherilyn has been married to Raleigh for twenty-three years, and they live in Southern Oregon.

Brad Cole graduated from Loma Linda University (LLU) School of Medicine in 1992 and currently works as a neurologist in Loma Linda, California. He is course director for the first- and second-year neuroscience course, as well as the third-year neurology clerkship at LLU. Brad helped coordinate the Good News Tour conferences and also has a weekly book-by-book Bible study for LLU students, which is available at GodsCharacter.com. He feels fortunate to share together with his wife, Dorothee, and their three children—Christina, Caleb, and James—this loving picture of God.

Dorothee Cole grew up in Germany and attended college in Collonges-sous-Salève, France. She graduated from Portland State University with a B.A. degree in French in 1990 and from Loma Linda University School of Medicine with the M.D. degree in 1994. She currently works in Loma Linda, California, as a neurologist with a special interest in movement disorders. Dorothee helped coordinate the Good News Tour conferences and edited the book by G. E. Fifield, God Is Love. She lives in Redlands, California, with her husband, Brad, and their three children—Christina, Caleb, and James.

Virginia Davidson lives in Kennewick, Washington, where her husband, Jim, is a scientist/statistician at the nearby Hanford Site. They have two married daughters and a grandbaby, all of them “the light of my eyes.” Through the years, Virginia has been primarily a keeper of the home. She has also taught secondary-level English and Bible, worked part-time in graphic design, and designed and built custom stained-glass windows. She was principal contributor for the Bible Study Guide “Proverbs: Wisdom to Live By” in 1991 and 2000 and is currently writing “Adorn the Doctrine: An Artist’s Perspective on the Bible.” Her greatest passion is the Good News about God.

Tom Ewall is a software developer who specializes in services for insurance companies. He majored in theology and studied at Andrews Theological Seminary in Berrien Springs, Michigan, in 1991 and 1992. His interests include foreign languages, piano, squash, and skiing.

Timothy R. Jennings is a Christian psychiatrist, author, international speaker, radio personality, and Fellow of the American Psychiatric Association. He is also president-elect of the Tennessee Psychiatric Association, chair of the Board of Regents of the Southern Psychiatric Association, and an adjunct faculty member at the University of Tennessee College of Medicine. In addition, he maintains a private practice in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Timothy obtained his M.D. degree in 1990 from the University of Tennessee College of Medicine in Memphis, Tennessee, and completed a psychiatric residency at D. D. Eisenhower Army Medical Center in Augusta, Georgia. Named one of America’s Top Psychiatrists by the Consumer Research Institute of America in 2008, 2010, 2011, and 2012, he is also the author of Could It Be This Simple? A Biblical Model for Healing the Mind (2007, 2nd edition 2012) and The God-Shaped Brain: How Your View of God Transforms Your Life (2013). Many of his lectures and written materials can be found at his website, comeandreason.com.

Sue Lewis received a B.S. degree in liberal arts from the University of Wisconsin-River Falls. She studied theology at Trinity University, Walla Walla College, and Loma Linda University. Her interests are gardening, cooking, and learning about the love of God.

Mark Merizan lives in Portland, Oregon, with his wife, Brenda, and their two sons. A software engineer by vocation, Mark emulates the masters of the Renaissance by pursuing as many areas of knowledge as possible. He is a student of history, philosophy, cosmology, religion—and especially the story of God’s dealing with the emergency of evil, as it is told in the Bible. Mark’s passion is to find a way to tell this story that stands behind all of our stories in a way that makes it accessible for those who do not speak the language of religiosity.

Herb Montgomery is director/speaker of Renewed Heart Ministries, a ministry passionate about sharing the radical, other-centered, self-sacrificial love of God as revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. His primary focus is putting on display the beauty of God’s character of love in relationally respectful, intellectually honest, and culturally relevant ways in our postmodern, naturalistic culture. He is the author of Finding the Father (2009) and Missing Dad (2013), both available through renewedheartministries.com. Herb currently resides in West Virginia with his wife, Crystal, and three children—Ali, Emarya, and Christian.

Ken Peterson, Jr., graduated from Laurelwood Academy in 1971, attended Walla Walla College for two years, and graduated from The College of William and Mary in 1976 with a degree in government. He graduated from Willamette University College of Law in 1980 and practiced law in Oregon until 1989, when the family moved to Washington so that he could devote full time to his business endeavors. Ken now lives in Camas, Washington, with his wife, Claudia, and his son, Erik. Their daughter, Emily, lives in Seattle.

Jean Sheldon is professor of religion at Pacific Union College, where she has taught since 1995. From 1984 to 1987, she taught biblical studies at Hong Kong Adventist College on behalf of Loma Linda University. She holds a joint Ph.D. degree in ancient Near Eastern religions from the Graduate Theological Union and the University of California in Berkeley. Jean is the author of several books, including her most recent one entitled No Longer Naked and Ashamed: Discovering That God Is Not an Abuser (2009).

Manuel Silva served as lead pastor of the Oakridge Adventist Church in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, until his death. He earned the M.Div. degree from Andrews Theological Seminary in Berrien Springs, Michigan. He was passionate about preaching biblical truth in ways that are relevant to postmoderns. Manual was married to Debbie and was the father of two children—Lucas and Daniella.

A. Loren Smith is a registered nurse who lives in the Loma Linda, California, area. He enjoys pondering the depths of God’s love, mountain biking, and doing “story time” for Sabbath School. Loren thanks Liberty, his wife, who has brought him closer to the liberty found in Christ; and his two kids, Angelica and Justin, who continually inspire him.

Alden Thompson is professor of biblical studies at Walla Walla University, where he has been a faculty member since 1970. He teaches in the areas of Old Testament and Adventist history. An ordained minister in the Seventh-day Adventist Church, Alden is a graduate of Walla Walla College (B.A. 1965) and Andrews University (M.A. 1966, B.D. 1967). He received his doctorate in Old Testament and Judaic Studies from the University of Edinburgh in 1974. His best-known books are Inspiration: Hard Questions, Honest Answers (1991), also translated into German and Dutch; Who Is Afraid of the Old Testament God (1988, 1989, 2011), also translated into Icelandic, Norwegian, and Russian; Escape From the Flames (2005), also published in Norwegian, German, and Russian; and Beyond Common Ground: Why Liberals and Conservatives Need Each Other (2009), translated into Russian, forthcoming in French. Alden and his wife, Wanda, live in College Place, Washington. They have two daughters, Karin and Krista.

Sigve Tonstad is a pastor and an internal medicine physician with a special interest in diabetes. He earned a B.A. degree in theology from Middle East College, Lebanon, and from Andrews University, Michigan; an M.A. degree in biblical studies from Loma Linda University, California, where he also completed his medical degree; and a Ph.D. degree in New Testament Studies from the University of St. Andrews, Scotland. His doctoral dissertation, Saving God’s Reputation, was published in 2006 by T. & T. Clark. In 2009, Andrews University Press published his book, The Lost Meaning of the Seventh Day. Sigve is an associate professor of religion at Loma Linda University. His wife, Serena, also a physician, is an expert in three areas of major concern in the field of preventive medicine: smoking, metabolic disease, and lipids.

Preface

IN THE SUMMER OF 2005, A RELATIVELY SMALL group of individuals met in Redlands, California. Message board discussions, email exchanges, and telephone calls brought them together because of a growing passion to discuss one central question: “What kind of a Person is God?” The conversations took place in the basement of the local library and attracted no attention. For those who were present, however, the end result was a palpable admiration for God’s goodness and love. Out of this small meeting, the Good News Tour conferences were born—a total of seven conventions from 2006 to 2009 that included a diverse collection of theologians, pastors, builders, teachers, computer programmers, physicians, and others who met together to share publically their perspective on God’s character. The idea for Servant God originated out of these meetings and is intended for anyone who desires to explore God’s character in greater depth.

Our experience has been that the subject of God’s character can lead to a cascade of difficult and sometimes troubling questions. Merely affirming that “God is love” (1 John 4:9) does not satisfy a mother who lost her young daughter to leukemia. This mother wants to know why the all-powerful God allows such pain and suffering. Did God will the death of her child, or is he too weak or uninterested to help? How can he have an enemy (Satan) who challenges him? Are we really safe in his hands? Why do some of the Old Testament stories seem to make God appear severe and punishing? How do we reconcile gentle Jesus with the frequently violent portrait of Yahweh? Even the New Testament can present some challenges: Did the Father kill his Son on the Cross? Why did Jesus have to die, and who demanded the sacrifice? Do we have free will to choose for or against God? And what about hell? Does God really torture his enemies for all of eternity, or at least for “as long as they deserve,” in order to satisfy justice? Many are haunted by such questions and consequently experience separation, alienation, and distrust in God. Yet each of these concerns can be traced back to a single core question: What kind of a Person is God?

Servant God does not promise to delve into detailed discussions or exhaustive theological discourses on each of the above-mentioned topics. Nor does it guarantee to present a comprehensive summary on the various views of the atonement, the nature of Christ, or the mechanics of salvation. Our goal in this book is to plainly discuss difficult questions about God that we all have, using words that everyone can understand. Most importantly, every topic is examined in its larger context—the universal war between God and his adversary (also called the devil, or Satan). The outcome of this cosmic conflict will forever resolve the fundamental question of God’s character and trustworthiness. The authors’ unanimous conclusion is that God can be trusted and that his character is most clearly revealed in the self-sacrificial life and death of Jesus Christ.

The various authors were chosen either because they were speakers at one of the Good News Tour conferences or because they were part of a larger base of individuals who have a particular insight or passion for the message presented. Each writer examines a different subject of the Christian faith as it relates to our central question about God’s trustworthiness—including the nature of sin, suffering, human freedom, the law, justice, judgment, or the atonement. Servant God is unique in its inclusion of a wide variety of contributors, both theologians and lay people. In fact, we believe that this blend of writers is symbolic of those who will comprise God’s kingdom—people from different backgrounds and walks of life joining together because of a common message, and mostly because of their love for a Person—God revealed in Jesus.

Servant God is organized into five main sections. Part One, “The Old, Old Testament,” examines the origins of the “War in Heaven” (Revelation 12:7). Why does an all-powerful God allow for an enemy and even confer on him the title, “the prince of this world” (John 12:31, 14:30, 16:11)? What are the issues in this cosmic conflict, and how does this perspective help us explain the existence of sin and suffering in this world? Part Two, “The Old Testament,” compares and contrasts the self-sacrificial, nonviolent, “love-your-enemy” picture of God revealed by Jesus Christ, with the Old Testament Yahweh, who frequently thunders loudly, sends fire and floods to destroy, and even seems to command the genocide of Israel’s enemies. Can we reconcile the God of Sinai with the God of Calvary? Part Three, “The New Testament,” takes the perspective that the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus are the clearest, 20/20-vision look at God’s character. In Jesus, we see a God who is the very personification of love and forgiveness. Part Four, “The Now Testament,” applies our new understanding of God to the events we associate with the end of time, such as the Second Coming, the judgment, and the question about hell. Part Five, “The Living Testaments,” attempts to apply our understanding of God to practical, daily life. What difference does this view of God make in the way we live, treat our neighbors, and communicate with God? Our hope is that “by beholding we become changed” (2 Corinthians 3:18), and that the realization of the unfathomable kindness of God is the first step in our healing and the restoration of our world.

Finally, we want to acknowledge the historical stream of thought that influenced many of the writers. For decades, Loma Linda University has had a special emphasis on the ongoing controversy over God’s character. Roughly a hundred years ago, the pioneer and founder of Loma Linda University, Ellen G. White, published the five-volume “Conflict of the Ages” series with this same focus. Throughout the twentieth century, this emphasis continued at Loma Linda. Pastors such as Paul Heubach, theologians such as A. Graham Maxwell and Jack Provonsha, as well as many others, continued to develop further this perspective. We would like to acknowledge this rich tradition and find it most fitting and appropriate that the publisher of this book is Loma Linda University Press. Servant God seeks to touch on this rich heritage, not claiming always to reach the same conclusions or even the full depth of understanding that prior giants have had but to keep the conversation about God, his character of service, and our own role in the cosmic conflict alive.

Welcome to the conversation!

Acknowledgments

THE IDEA FOR THIS BOOK CAME INTO BEING after a series of conferences—the Good News Tour.  The Good News Tour was realized by individuals who in turn benefited from the spiritual support of a larger community—people from a variety of Christian denominations spanning countries and continents. This larger community has nurtured, supported, and protected the message of God’s character, undoubtedly with the help of God’s Spirit. Thanks to all of you for your innumerable contributions via email lists, social network sites, articles, books, and sermons which have helped shape the outcome of this book!

Special thanks for the actual implementation of this book to my husband, Brad, who provided valuable feedback on every chapter and to Cherilyn Clough, who edited for style as well as content and whose trusting friendship and enthusiasm supported in difficult times when it seemed that this project would not be realized. Many thanks also to Mark Merizan and Robin Meinhard, as well as to the late Arlene Siepman, who freely gave of her expertise and edited more than half of the chapters for grammar, spelling, and style prior to her unexpected death. We are very appreciative of the beautiful artwork provided by Lars Justinen and the meticulous proofing and interior design by Ken McFarland. Last but definitely not least, we are exceedingly grateful for the support of Dr. Richard Hart, Dr. Ronald Carter, and Dr. Audrey Vance Howard, who recognized the value of this manuscript and were crucial in its publication.

We hope that the message of God’s kindness will speak to the heart and mind and that it may bring healing to the doubtful reader by giving evidence and reassurance that Jesus revealed the Father’s character and that God is entirely worthy of our trust.

The Editor

Authors’ Disclaimer

THE CONTRIBUTORS REFLECT A DIVERSE community of people—including theologians, pastors, evangelists, computer programmers, web designers, physicians, nurses, builders, teachers, and others. Their common thread is an admiration of God’s character as perfectly revealed in Jesus. Though the authors may not agree on every detail of doctrinal belief, each would like to affirm that the words of George MacDonald are true:

“I and the Father are One,” is the center-truth of the universe,

And the encircling truth is, “That they also may be one in us.”

Introduction

An idea is like a virus, resilient, highly contagious. The smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define or destroy you.

—Dom Cobb, in the movie Inception

WE ALL HAVE OUR OWN IDEAS ABOUT GOD. Two thousand years ago, a devout religious group looked at God in human form and declared that he was devil possessed. Their idea of God was a mighty conqueror who would defeat their national enemies and establish his physical kingdom on earth. They were disgusted that Jesus associated with heathens, the poor, the sick, and other outcasts of society and were outraged by his claim to divinity. The sham trial before Pontius Pilate was possible only because they had already judged him as guilty in their minds. Their verdict came quickly: This man who claimed to be God was a fraud, a blasphemer, and deserving of death.

During the Dark Ages, zealous “Christians” burned so-called heretics at the stake for translating the Bible from Latin into the languages of the common people. In the minds of those who strangled to death and burned the body of William Tyndale, they were doing God’s will. They had the same flaw as those who crucified Jesus. Their idea of God was twisted and distorted—a punitive god who uses coercion and force to accomplish his goal—a god who doesn’t have much regard for human free will. Convinced that they were God’s ambassadors, they tortured and killed their enemies, just as their god would.

In our day, many have carried on the idea of a coercive and punishing god. We have been told that God sends natural disasters such as hurricane Katrina and the Haiti earthquake as judgments for actions such as pro-gay legislation and the practice of voodoo. Explanations for the tsunami that devastated South Asia range from God’s sentence for the persecution of Christians in that region to his response to the high abortion rate. Some have suggested that the holocaust was God’s punishment of the Jewish people for not accepting Christ. Many today share the sentiments of a contemporary preacher, who criticized the notion of a suffering, serving God with the words, “I can’t worship a guy that I could beat up.”[1] But isn’t that exactly what we did to Jesus?

The first book of the Bible tells the story of how a false idea about God, like a satanic virus, infiltrated human minds, causing mistrust and fear of God. It was implied that God lied to us and that he does not have our best interest in mind (Genesis 3:4, 5). The results caused a dramatic break in the relationship between God and his people, who were now hiding in the bushes in fear of him (Genesis 3:10). Since that time, most of humanity has been afraid, trying to appease an angry and punitive deity.

Jesus came to change our idea about God. Jesus showed us exactly what God is like when he associated with sinners and societal outcasts rather than judging and condemning them. He revealed God’s heart when he hung on the Cross and refused to use force against his enemies and instead forgave them and died. Yet despite Jesus’ claims that “whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9) and that “the Father and I are one” (John 10:3), his life and death are not often viewed as a revelation of who God is. Instead, Christ’s mission is frequently reduced to that of a whipping boy for our sins—the object of divine anger. This picture of an angry God creates angry “Christians.” This false idea about God has been responsible for most of the atrocities committed by Christians throughout the past seventeen centuries. Our wrong conceptions of God have led us to treat our enemies just as our god would—burning, strangling, shooting, or bombing them, rather than staying faithful to Christ’s way.

It’s time to change our idea about God. Over 2,000 years ago, God became a human being to penetrate the darkness surrounding our picture of him, to free us from fear, and to reassure us that the omnipotent God of the universe is exactly like Jesus in character: noncoercive, humble, and other-centered in his love. Jesus came to let us know that God’s infinite power is equally matched by his humility; to reveal that God’s Kingdom is not defined by conquering our enemies in battlefields or courts of law but rather through our service and love for them; and to enlighten us that God’s Kingdom spreads by persuasion and truth, not force and coercion.

If Christianity of today is to play any role in putting an end to the chain of hate and violence in the world, we must examine the ideas about God that we harbor deep within the recesses of our minds. We must reevaluate our God to see if he is in harmony with the character of Jesus. When we finally leave the violent god of our ancestors and turn to the God of peace and other-centered love for all human beings, we become peacemakers ourselves, empowered to create communities where we can live together without fear of God or of each other.

Dorothee Cole

November 1, 2013

[1].  Mark Driscoll (pastor of Mars Hill in Seattle), in an interview with Relevant Magazine, Issue #24 (January/February 2007). See <http://web.archive.org/web/20071013102203/http://relevantmagazine.com/god_article.php?id=7418>.

CHAPTER ONE

The Cosmic Conflict:

The Real “Mother of All Wars”

BRAD COLE

Enemy-occupied territory—that is what this world is. Christianity is the story of how the rightful king has landed, you might say landed in disguise, and is calling us all to take part in a great campaign of sabotage.

—  C.S. Lewis[1]

IN THE YEAR 1844, A WEARY TRAVELER ARRIVED at Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai in search of ancient biblical manuscripts. At the end of the long day, a monk stoked the embers of his cold room. As the fire crackled, the astonished visitor suddenly realized that the kindling was a stack of ancient manuscripts. These forty-four leaves were considered to be of little value to the monastery and had been carelessly discarded in the trash. The traveler was German Bible scholar Constantin Von Tischendorf, who soon determined that this pile of “trash” was a virtually intact ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament. This finding led Von Tischendorf to uncover other biblical manuscripts at this monastery that were hundreds of years older than what had been the best available to scholars at that time. Ultimately, Von Tischendorf’s discovery improved the accuracy and reliability of our current-day translations of the Bible.[2]

Throughout the centuries, Christian theology has tended to construct every belief of any real consequence around the central theme of personal salvation. “Am I saved? How can I know that I am saved? What was done to secure my salvation? How do I ‘accept’ what was done for me?” and so on. This focus on personal salvation, however, has led to the development of a rather large blind spot in our understanding of God and of the world around us. Perhaps, like Von Tischendorf, we need to walk over to the trash can and take another look at a perspective that has been largely neglected since the first centuries of the early Christian church.

This book will reexamine every belief about God in the context of a cosmic conflict—a conflict of such mammoth proportions and significance that the peace and security of the entire universe literally hang in the balance. So much more is at stake than our own personal salvation. In fact, we will discover that the extreme and radical measures that God is using to win this universal conflict are also the same measures that provide for our personal salvation—they are one and the same.

To what kind of extreme and radical measures are we referring? When kingdoms of the world fight, they drop nuclear bombs or fly passenger planes into skyscrapers. But how does the all-powerful God of the universe fight a war and quash a rebellion? God’s “nuclear weapon” that shook both heaven and earth was to become an embryo and spend nine months inside a womb. But that is getting ahead of our story…

Taking the History and Making the Diagnosis

Several years ago, I was called by an emergency room physician to examine Jose, a 32-year-old man who lived in Mexico. While visiting his sister near Los Angeles, he had developed double vision that rapidly progressed to the point where he could not even open his eyes. He was rushed to the emergency room, but by the time I saw him, his condition had worsened, and he could hardly speak and was short of breath. Initially, it was not entirely clear what was going on. He insisted that he had been completely healthy prior to this and denied taking any medications or using any drugs. Brain scans and extensive lab tests were all coming back normal, yet he continued to worsen. Just when it appeared that Jose was about to lose the ability to breathe on his own, I asked again, “Are you sure that there wasn’t something going on before you got sick that you haven’t told me?” Only then, with a weak and slurred voice, did he confess, “Yeah…I shoot up heroin, doc.” With this revelation, things suddenly began to make sense. He then unfolded the story of how he regularly purchased his heroin in Mexico (known as “black tar heroin”), which is well known to cause botulism. A careful search now revealed infected heroin injection sites, and eventually, testing confirmed the diagnosis of botulism. Once the diagnosis was in hand, he was given the appropriate treatment, which then led to a complete recovery.

In medicine, making the correct diagnosis is the first step toward selecting the appropriate treatment. In the same way, as we seek to understand the suffering that we see around us every day, our diagnosis of the problem must be correct if we ever hope to identify the solution. In the case of Jose, making the correct diagnosis required knowledge of what was going on in his life prior to his developing the symptoms of botulism. Cosmic conflict theology invites this same question as we try to understand a sin-sick world: “Are you sure there wasn’t something going on before you got sick…?” So let’s roll up our sleeves and try to arrive at the correct diagnosis regarding our sick patient—in this case, suffering humanity. We will do this by taking a history of the sin problem.

But who would be the best person to interview? If we were to ask Abraham, David, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Peter, or John, wouldn’t they all agree with these words about the sin-sick and self-centered condition of their own heart: “I don’t do the good I want to do; instead, I do the evil that I do not want to do…. What an unhappy man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is taking me to death?” (Romans 7:19, 24, GNB).

In order to understand how humanity got sick in the first place, we need to talk with someone who was “well” at one time. Adam and Eve had the remarkable distinction that for at least some period of time, they reflected the character of their Creator. “God spoke: ‘Let us make human beings in our image, make them reflecting our nature’…. God created human beings; he created them godlike, reflecting God’s nature” (Genesis 1:26, 27, MSG). At one point in time these two enjoyed the perfection of Eden in the very presence of God. But then something happened that led them to become as spiritually sick as Jose was physically. In order to understand our own condition, we must ask, “What happened to Adam and Eve? How did they get sick and infect the rest of us?”

Before we consider what happened to Adam and Eve, it is crucial that we recognize that all was not well in the universe when God created Eden, as evidenced by the presence of the subtle and crafty snake in the tree. Not until the last book of the Bible is this “ancient serpent” positively identified as Satan:

Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, who fought back with his angels; but the dragon was defeated, and he and his angels were not allowed to stay in heaven any longer. The huge dragon was thrown out—that ancient serpent, named the Devil, or Satan, that deceived the whole world. He was thrown down to earth, and all his angels with him. (Revelation 12:7-9, GNB).

The context of the Eden story is thus set against the backdrop of some sort of large-scale heavenly conflict[3] in which Satan has angels that are on his side—“all his angels with him.” What kind of a war was this, and what kinds of weapons were used? Did Satan believe that he could out-muscle God?

The Greek word for “war” is polemos from which we derive words such as “polemics” (the art or practice of argumentation or controversy). Satan is a deceiver (Revelation 12:9), and the war in heaven was not fought with tanks and lightning bolts but rather with words. What words? We can imagine that by the time Satan is involved in his discussion with Eve at the tree that he has transformed his technique of pulling minds away from God into a high art form. Thus, his words to Eve provide an important window of understanding as to what might have been said in the heavenly realm as well. What really happened, and how could a conversation about a piece of fruit lead to such devastation? Let’s try to understand the implications of Satan’s very calculated words: “Now the snake was the most cunning animal that the LORD God had made. The snake asked the woman, ‘Did God really tell you not to eat fruit from any tree in the garden?’” (Genesis 3:1, GNB).

The implication is subtle, yet clear. “Psst…Eve. Say, this might not be true, but I heard that God doesn’t let you eat any fruit in this garden? Has God really restricted you to that extent, Eve? Hmmm…it’s a pity that God doesn’t give his creatures much freedom.”

Of course, this was a direct contradiction of God’s words to Adam and Eve that, “You may eat the fruit of any tree in the garden…” (Genesis 2:16, GNB)—any, that is, except one. Perhaps the negative implication about God started the wheels turning within Eve’s mind as to why God would restrict her access to anything in the garden at all.

The snake’s suggestion that God had limited her freedom should have been a major red flag to Eve and caused her to leave the scene immediately. Instead, she foolishly engaged with Satan in dialogue: “‘We may eat the fruit of any tree in the garden,’ the woman answered, ‘except the tree in the middle of it. God told us not to eat the fruit of that tree or even touch it; if we do, we will die’” (Genesis 3:2, 3, GNB).

Eve’s weak reply to Satan’s accusation that God had been restrictive of her freedom suggests that she was already being lured into the trap that he would now spring. “The snake replied, ‘That’s not true; you will not die. God said that because he knows that when you eat it, you will be like God and know what is good and what is bad’” (Genesis 3:4, 5, GNB).

In other words, “Eve, God has lied to you! God is untrustworthy! First, he limits your freedom even to come to this tree. Then he threatens you with death just to keep you from eating a piece of fruit that would be for your own good. What kind of a ‘God’ is that, Eve?” On top of all this, the suggestion that Eve could enter a loftier state by eating the fruit was designed to stimulate selfish desires.

So Eve ate the fruit, but eating the fruit was merely the action that confirmed that she actually believed Satan’s lies about God. This was not a poisonous apple but a poisonous lie! What Eve (and later Adam) ingested was a lie about the character of God. Eve willingly devoured the lie that the God who created her was restrictive and untrustworthy, and that he was selfishly trying to keep her at a lower state. Eating the fruit also symbolized her desire to elevate self.

Soon after swallowing the fruit, reality was quickly turned on its head for both Adam and Eve. They now saw God as the one to be afraid of, instead of Satan. The confirmation of this is that God came to meet them in the garden, but Adam and Eve hid in the bushes. “I heard you in the garden; I was afraid and hid from you…” (Genesis 3:10, GNB). Why were they hiding? They now doubted God’s goodness and trustworthiness. They now wondered if God had really been on their side all along. And that is the key point of the story! Satan’s plan was to distort God’s character and incite Adam and Eve to distrust God. Satan knew that once they stopped trusting God, they would be powerless to overcome his temptations. Almost immediately, we see the spiritual sickness that plagues all of us manifested in Adam and Eve’s behavior—fear, hatred, and selfishness.

The Eden story is a microcosm that magnifies the essential issue of all issues. The central question in the cosmic conflict revolves around the trustworthiness of God’s character! This war over God’s character is the real “Mother of all Wars.” God might have won the battle in the Garden of Eden if Adam and Eve had only refused to believe Satan’s lies about his character. In fact, we can safely assume there would not have been a war in heaven in the first place had the angels refused to accept Satan’s distortions about God.

The “war in heaven” was most likely fought just like the one we witnessed at the tree—a war of ideas and principles. Political candidates often slander and distort the character of their opponent for political advantage, and this is exactly the kind of campaign that Satan was waging against God—a political campaign based on lies and deceptions. Political campaigns are about winning hearts and minds. If Adam and Eve had realized that Satan was the untrustworthy liar, they would have cast their vote for God, and Planet Earth would have had an entirely different history.

Jose developed all of the symptoms of botulism because he injected himself with black tar heroin. His double vision, difficulty swallowing, and weakness were merely the symptoms that resulted from using this dangerous form of heroin. Likewise, we are spiritually sick with the symptoms of selfishness, hatred, and fear. It would make no sense for a physician treating Jose to merely treat his double vision or his weakness. Rather, he needed the underlying infection of botulism to be treated and eradicated—only then did the symptoms begin to improve. In the same way, God’s efforts have always been to work at the root of the problem—to vindicate his trustworthy character in our minds and to restore us back into a healing and trusting friendship once again. Ultimately, this was done in the Person of Jesus Christ.

God’s Response to the Conflict

For some, the suggestion that God is involved in some sort of a cosmic conflict may seem to diminish his sovereignty and power. After all, if God is all-powerful, how could he possibly be involved in a “war” that could not be solved by a single authoritative word? In order to answer this question, let’s consider some of the options God could have used in defeating Satan’s rebellion.

God Could Have Used Force

Imagine what would have happened if God, as Satan began spreading his lies, had merely ended the debate by eliminating Satan. Would that have achieved victory? Had Barack Obama attempted to win his campaign against Mitt Romney by killing him, his support would have evaporated, and he would have ended up in prison instead of the White House. Similarly, God immediately and totally would have lost the sympathy of the angels had he used force, fear tactics, or coercion. The action of force may have confirmed in their minds that Satan was probably right, and the rebellion would have deepened.

God also couldn’t win the war by banishing Satan to the farthest planet, never to be heard from again. In fact, such an act would have supported Satan’s first accusation against God to Eve—that he was not a respecter of freedom. So God granted Satan the freedom to be heard but restricted his access to only the one tree, not allowing him to stalk them throughout the garden. There are no stories of Satan jumping out from behind every bush, “Hey Eve…” The tree was really meant to protect Adam and Eve by placing limits on Satan—they could only encounter his twisted version of reality if they chose to disobey God’s severe warning about the tree (Genesis 2:16, 17). No freedom deficit exists in God’s Kingdom. Satan was free to present his lies; Adam and Eve were free to listen.

God Could Have Used Arguments and Claims

It’s true that God has gone on record for making counterclaims about Satan. “From the very beginning he was a murderer and has never been on the side of truth, because there is no truth in him. When he tells a lie, he is only doing what is natural to him, because he is a liar and the father of all lies” (John 8:44, GNB). But if God had made this statement in heaven when the conflict began (which he very likely did), would this have settled the argument? When a president today makes a bold proclamation, as Bill Clinton did years ago—“I did not have sex with that woman”—are we really convinced that the words are true? God needed to do more to win the trust of the universe than merely to assert that “I am love personified, and Satan is a liar.”

God’s Evidence

The only way that God could convince us was to provide clear-cut evidence of his love and trustworthiness. Likewise, a deceiver can be defeated only by being exposed and unmasked by the evidence of his own actions:

As a deceiver, Satan wins support for his cause... by something other than what he truly represents. If this is the case, [the] simple demolition of the deceiver will not suffice unless or until his true character has become manifest. Such a perception of the cosmic conflict depends on [the] presentation of evidence for its resolution... he must be unmasked by evidence to the contrary, that is, by the evidence of his own actual deeds... the crucial point relates to the fact that a conflict of this nature cannot be resolved by force... Satan must be allowed to commit evil for his evil character to be manifest. The political risk to the divine government of this projected policy, not to mention the theological risk, hardly needs to be elaborated.[4]

The biblical record is filled with evidence that God’s character is thoroughly good and trustworthy; by contrast, it also reveals and exposes the character of Satan and the nature of his kingdom. God’s most convincing action to vindicate his character and to expose Satan’s was to become a member of the human race. In Jesus, God became flesh-and-blood evidence!

This was the evidence that Adam and Eve needed as they were shaking in the bushes in fear of God. As Eve pondered whether or not God had been restrictive of her freedom, could she have imagined that God would be the one to restrict his own freedom? And to what an infinite degree God condescended, even to spend nine months in a human womb. Could Adam and Eve possibly have imagined that the One they were so afraid of that day would one day live the life of a humble carpenter? And as Eve wondered if God had withheld a piece of fruit that would make her more elevated, could the thought possibly have entered her mind that the Almighty God would go from the infinitely elevated position as “God” to the very lowest position—dead in a tomb?

Jesus came to reveal evidence about God’s character and by contrast to expose the character of Satan. “No one has ever seen God. But the unique One, who is himself God, is near to the Father’s heart. He has revealed God to us” (John 1:18, GNB). The night before Jesus died, he clearly stated that his mission was to reveal God to us:

This is eternal life: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you sent. On earth I have given you glory by finishing the work you gave me to do…. I made your name known to the people you gave me. (John 17:3-6, GNB, emphasis supplied).

The Message Bible paraphrases this as, “I glorified you on earth by completing down to the last detail what you assigned me to do…. I spelled out your character in detail to the men and women you gave me” (John 17:4, 6, MSG).

Eternal life is having a true knowledge of God and his character and entering into a very real and personal relationship with him. This remains impossible, however, so long as our picture of God causes us to join Adam and Eve in the bushes. Jesus’ self-described mission was to make God’s name (character) known, and this would only make sense for Jesus to say if God’s name (character) had been slandered and misunderstood. Jesus came to clear up all the confusion and to convincingly quash the lies that seem to be woven into the very fabric of our understanding about who God is.

“The Son of God appeared for this very reason, to destroy what the Devil had done” (1 John 3:8, GNB). “Jesus himself became like them and shared their human nature. He did this so that through his death he might destroy the Devil…” (Hebrews 2:4, GNB). He came as “the light of the world” (John 8:12, GNB) “because their minds have been kept in the dark by the evil god of this world” (2 Corinthians 4:4, GNB).

And when Jesus died, not a shred of doubt should have remained about whether Satan’s lies about God were true. Jesus described it this way: “The time for judging this world has come, when Satan, the ruler of this world, will be cast out. And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to Myself” (John 12:31, 32, NLT).

From where is Satan cast out? If the issue in this war is over the trustworthiness of God, it is Satan’s caricature of God that is cast out of our minds when we embrace the reality of God’s character as revealed by Jesus Christ. If Jesus (God in human form) allowed torture and death on his own body in order to save humanity, he is certainly a God who can be trusted. By Jesus’ death on the Cross, Satan’s lies are revealed to be utterly preposterous.

The wisdom of God’s decision to become a human and to die such a cruel death must have seemed nonsense to Satan:

It is not the wisdom that belongs to this world or to the powers that rule this world—powers that are losing their power.... None of the rulers of this world knew this wisdom. If they had known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. (1 Corinthians 2:6-8, GNB).

“If they had known” that God’s way of winning the war would be to allow his enemies to crucify him, Satan and the “powers that rule this world” would never have stirred up the angry mob to do the horrible things they did to the Son of God. Perhaps for a fleeting moment, Satan believed that he was victorious as Jesus died; yet the reality is that Christ’s death sealed his defeat. At the Cross, we are fully convinced of God’s trustworthiness and that he is love personified, while at the same time, Satan’s selfishness and the malignant nature of his kingdom are exposed. “He stripped all the spiritual tyrants in the universe of their sham authority at the Cross and marched them naked through the streets” (Colossians 2:15, MSG).

Once, war raged in heaven—a cosmic conflict over the character of God. God won the war and restored peace in heaven and will eventually win the war here on earth, as well. He did this by his remarkable condescension in becoming a human and dying such a humiliating death:

Through the Son, then, God decided to bring the whole universe back to himself. God made peace through his Son’s blood on the cross and so brought back to himself all things, both on earth and in heaven. At one time you were far away from God and were his enemies because of the evil things you did and thought. But now, by means of the physical death of his Son, God has made you his friends.... (Colossians 1:20-22, GNB).

Fear of God has been the basic underlying theme of human history. So long as Adam and Eve were hiding in the bushes, they could not be friends of God. No one hides from a friend. One of the hallmarks of pagan worship all through the Old Testament is based on the concept of appeasement of angry gods who require much flowing blood to pacify their anger. Even the “loyal” religious people in Jesus’ day who claimed to worship the God of Abraham were religious primarily because they were desperately trying to keep the right list of rules in order to somehow get right with God. Their motivation for obedience was in part based on fear that originated from their false concepts about God. They feared that God would punish them severely unless they obeyed the rules. God’s chosen people were “hiding in the bushes” just as much as Adam and Eve, even though they claimed to be God’s loyal friends. Jesus came to bring us all “out of the bushes,” so to speak, through the revelation of his character and to restore us back into a loving friendship:

For since our friendship with God was restored by the death of His Son while we were still His enemies, we will certainly be saved through the life of His Son. So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God. (Romans 5:10, 11, NLT).

The Principle of God’s Kingdom

While God’s character is the central focus of the great controversy, there is another closely related issue at stake, and that is how he governs. What are the basic principles of God’s Kingdom versus Satan’s kingdom? Once again, if we compare this to a political campaign, the issue is not only the trustworthy character of the candidate, but also how this candidate will run the universe.

The Bible reveals that God and Satan have entirely different ways of governing. Satan’s kingdom is based on the survival-of-the-fittest principle, where the stronger abuse and push the weaker even further down. God’s Kingdom is based on other-centered love and service, as evidenced by God becoming the weakest of the weak in order to serve others even to the point of death. If we want to be first in God’s Kingdom, then we must be willing to lower ourselves and serve others as Jesus did (Mark 9:35).

Satan’s kingdom says, “If necessary, I will kill you in order that I might climb a little higher.” By contrast, God’s Kingdom says, “I will lay down my life in order that you might live.” Although we see survival of the fittest in nature today, God did not design our planet such that the stronger would hunt, kill, and eat the weaker. What we see all around us is a biological distortion and even further proof that Satan, “the prince of this world” (John 12:31, NIV), has had dominion over life on our planet. When God eventually becomes the ruler of our planet once again, “wolves and sheep will live together in peace” (Isaiah 11:6, NLT), and our earth will be restored back into harmony with his principle of love.

In the Garden of Eden, we see how their distrust of God caused Adam and Eve immediately to begin exhibiting the self-centered, survival-of-the-fittest principle of the enemy. Adam stopped giving of himself to serve and love his wife and instead began to accuse her (notice also the implied accusation against God): “The woman you put here with me gave me the fruit, and I ate it” (Genesis 3:12, GNB). In other words, “It’s the woman’s fault, God. And by the way, it’s your fault too for making her in the first place!” Likewise, Eve deflected the blame onto the snake and indirectly at God for creating the snake, “The snake tricked me into eating it” (Genesis 3:13, GNB). Sadly, from the fall of Adam and Eve to our modern day, the infection of Satan’s kingdom—survival-of-the-fittest, fear, blame, and selfishness—are woven into the very fabric of our fallen human nature.

So as we read the Bible, we should especially tune in to look for these two central issues: “God’s character versus Satan’s character” and “the way God runs his Kingdom versus the way Satan runs his kingdom.” Once we have become accustomed to looking for them, we will see that these are the central threads and the central questions that run through all Scripture. Two rival “gods.”  One is the “real deal” Creator who is entirely worthy of our worship and adoration. The other is a mere creature who lustfully desires to be worshiped as a god. Two entirely different personalities—one who is other-centered love personified and will lay down his life to reach even his enemies; the other who is self-centered to the core and will kill anyone who gets in his way, including his own Creator. Two polar opposite governments—one that calls for the stronger to help and serve the weaker; the other that calls for the stronger to consume the weaker.

The Context of Reality

Context really is important, and this is especially true when it comes to our understanding of God. The cosmic conflict places everything on a larger canvas and provides a richer context to understand the reality around us. As the issues in the cosmic conflict become increasingly clear in our own minds, we begin to recognize that these warring principles on every page of Scripture spill out into our daily lives, as well. In my own experience, the incorporation of a cosmic conflict over the character of God was like going from a two-dimensional to a three-dimensional world; and once such a fundamental change has taken place, there is no going back. It would be analogous to living in a house with the blinds pulled down for the first thirty years of life and with no concept or consideration that there might be something outside the walls of the house, until one day someone pulls up one set of blinds and then another and another, until finally a whole new world is seen. Then, as the individual marvels at all of the hustle and bustle going on outside the window, the exhilarating thought occurs, “I am actually meant to be an active participant in what is going on out there! I can actually walk out that door and experience this new world!”

Job

The story of Job is an excellent illustration of this. Job had absolutely no context within which to understand his horrible personal tragedies; he was oblivious to the discussion between God and Satan and had no perception that he was the centerpiece of a debate before the onlooking angels. He didn’t hear what God said of him: “Did you notice my servant Job? There is no one on earth as faithful and good as he is. He worships me and is careful not to do anything evil” (Job 1:8, GNB).

Job could have benefited from a larger perspective of the heavenly war between God and Satan and of his important role in this conflict. Absent this knowledge, he was left only to grope in the dark, wondering what happened to his friend, God (Job 29:1-3).

Not until the very end of the story does God step onto the stage to broaden Job’s small grasp of reality. Before concluding the argument by saying to the three friends, “You did not speak the truth about me, the way my servant Job did” (Job 42:7, GNB), God tried to convey the idea to Job that there is a powerful enemy in conflict with God, by telling the story of a beast called Leviathan. Listen to some of the descriptive features of this beast:

His pride is invincible; nothing can make a dent in that pride. Nothing can get through that proud skin—impervious to weapons and weather. (Job 41:15, 16, MSG).

When it raises itself up the gods are afraid; at the crashing they are beside themselves. (Job 41:25, NRSV).

Nothing on earth is his equal—a creature without fear. He looks down on all that are haughty; he is king over all that are proud. (Job 41:33, 34, NIV).

Elsewhere in Scripture, this same beast is described with these words: “On that day the LORD will use his fierce and powerful sword to punish Leviathan, that slippery snake, Leviathan, that twisting snake. He will kill that monster which lives in the sea” (Isaiah 27:1, GW).

How many other “slippery” and “twisting” snakes does the Bible describe? God is trying to “open the blinds” and to shed new light into Job’s reality (and ours!) with the message of this incredible story, which is this: “You are missing just one piece of the puzzle to explain all this pain and suffering, Job—a great controversy and a powerfully deceptive adversary!”

Daniel

Daniel was also missing this larger context when it seemed that God was not answering his prayer. In Daniel 9 we read that Daniel earnestly prayed that God would fulfill his promise and allow the Jews to return to Jerusalem. He then received a vision that was so troubling that he mourned for twenty-one days (Daniel 10:2). Daniel must have wondered what was going on, but he continued to pray. Remarkably, an angel then appeared to Daniel to “open the blinds” and to explain what was going on behind the scenes—and to reveal that God was in fact acting on Daniel’s prayer (Daniel 10:11-13). The angel then went on to describe an intense conflict between good and evil angelic forces that was taking place behind the scenes during those twenty-one days of prayer (Daniel 10:13, 20; 11:1).

Imagine Daniel’s surprise to discover that his prayer had, in part, stimulated cosmic forces to be launched into combat against each other! In this story, Daniel was a “prayer warrior” in the highest sense and had actually become an active participant in the complex battle that was taking place between God and Satan. Daniel’s eyes were opened to the real enemy—one who is far more sinister than any king or kingdom of this world; and he realized that “we are not fighting against human beings but against the wicked spiritual forces in the heavenly world, the rulers, authorities, and cosmic powers of this dark age” (Ephesians 6:12, GNB).

Like Daniel, when our eyes become opened to the cosmic conflict, it naturally has the effect of drawing us into the fray. We discover that God eagerly waits for us to prayerfully align ourselves with his will, just as Daniel did. “The prayer of a good person has a powerful effect” (James 5:16, GNB), because when we pray for the things that are in harmony with God’s character and kingdom, we allow God to intervene against Satan in the cosmic controversy. “I will do whatever you ask for in my name” (John 14:13, GNB) is the promise of Jesus. Perhaps understanding our own role to play in the cosmic conflict will encourage us to take Jesus at his word and to pray with a much greater sense of urgency and conviction. God has given us the power to actively join him in this great controversy by intervening for his cause.

Ezekiel

Ezekiel, a contemporary of Daniel, also needed a larger context for his depressing situation. After Nebuchadnezzar carted him off to Babylon during the second invasion of Jerusalem, things must have seemed very bleak. God chose to enlighten Ezekiel’s view with a series of incredible visions. The first was a remarkably complex vision of wheels within wheels, which Ezekiel interpreted this way, “I realized I was seeing the brightness of the LORD’s glory!” (Ezekiel 1:28, GNB). The order and symmetry of the scene must have been powerful, because it instilled in Ezekiel and the captives in Babylon the truth that God really was in control, even if it didn’t seem like it at the time. But God also wanted to reveal to his people (and to us) a much larger and more complex problem than what faced them in captivity, so Ezekiel later received a vision that described another mighty being—initially referred to as the king of Tyre:

Son of man, give the prince of Tyre this message from the Sovereign Lord: “In your great pride you claim, ‘I am a god! I sit on a divine throne in the heart of the sea’”...“Son of man, weep for the king of Tyre. Give him this message from the Sovereign Lord: ‘You were the perfection of wisdom and beauty. You were in Eden, the garden of God. Your clothing was adorned with every precious stone….They were given to you on the day you were created. I ordained and anointed you as the mighty angelic guardian. You had access to the holy mountain of God and walked among the stones of fire. You were blameless in all you did from the day you were created until the day evil was found in you. Your great wealth filled you with violence, and you sinned. So I banished you from the mountain of God. I expelled you, O mighty guardian, from your place among the stones of fire. Your heart was filled with pride because of all your beauty. You corrupted your wisdom for the sake of your splendor. So I threw you to the earth and exposed you to the curious gaze of kings.’” (Ezekiel 28:2, 11-17, NLT).

This passage describes the rebellion of “the mighty angelic guardian” who once dwelled in the very presence of God, “among the stones of fire.” Now his rebellion against God is on display right here on Planet Earth and before the entire universe—before “the curious gaze of kings.”

Had the exiles in Babylon only received the vision of an all-powerful God in Ezekiel chapter 1, their natural unanswered question would have been, “Then why is everything such a mess?” They would have received only half of the picture. While it is true that “the mess” is most often a result of our own doing, the book of Ezekiel directs our attention to the larger canvas and the reality that our experience on earth is part of something much bigger. We are literally involved in a “spectacle for the whole world of angels” (1 Corinthians 4:9, GNB), and this rebellion was in fact started by “the mighty angelic guardian” (Ezekiel 28:11). Even the Good News is not merely about our own salvation. Paul tells us that the Good News reveals “things which even the angels would like to understand” (1 Peter 1:12, GNB)—things that determine the outcome of the cosmic conflict between good and evil.

This passage also exposes the “great pride” of Satan, who claims, “I am a god!” He desires precisely this most of all—to be worshiped as God. When God himself came in human form, he began his ministry by going out to the desert to confront Satan. In his narcissism, Satan—a created being—had the audacity to ask his Creator to kneel down and worship him. “All this will be yours, then, if you worship me” (Luke 4:7, GNB). The angels in heaven must have looked on with stunned amazement to see an angel make such a bold demand of God. Clearly, they were watching this entire encounter, because when “the Devil left Jesus…angels came and helped him” (Matthew 4:11, GNB).

Isaiah

Isaiah also lived during discouraging times when people had very little faith in God. Like Ezekiel, Isaiah also witnessed God in all his glory (Isaiah 6), as well as a vision of the proud enemy:

How you are fallen from heaven, O shining star, son of the morning! You have been thrown down to the earth, you who destroyed the nations of the world. For you said to yourself, “I will ascend to heaven and set my throne above God’s stars. I will preside on the mountain of the gods far away in the north. I will climb to the highest heavens and be like the Most High.” Instead, you will be brought down to the place of the dead, down to its lowest depths. Everyone there will stare at you and ask, “Can this be the one who shook the earth and made the kingdoms of the world tremble? Is this the one who destroyed the world and made it into a wasteland? Is this the king who demolished the world’s greatest cities and had no mercy on his prisoners?” (Isaiah 14:12-17, NLT).

The name son of the morning in this passage literally means “shining one,” or “brilliant one.” The Hebrew word is helel, which is commonly applied to the planet Venus—a “star” so bright that it can be seen even in the middle of the day. The name is therefore also translated as “morning star,” “light bearer,” or “Lucifer,” in the Latin. Thus, some versions of the Bible translate this as, “How you are fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning!” (Isaiah 14:12, NKJV).

This passage in Isaiah further confirms the selfish and proud aspirations of Lucifer, when he became Satan and established a kingdom based on “me, myself, and I”—otherwise known as “survival of the fittest.” We are warned not to “swell up with pride and be condemned, as the Devil was” (1 Timothy 3:6, GNB). Jesus rebuked this proud and self-centered mindset! “This, however, is not the way it shall be among you. If one of you wants to be great, you must be the servant of the rest; and if one of you wants to be first, you must be the slave of the others—like the Son of Man, who did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life to redeem many people” (Matthew 20:26-28, GNB).

Jesus came to reveal that his Kingdom is nothing like Satan’s kingdom. While Satan and those in his kingdom desperately try to climb to the top by pushing others down, Jesus and those in his Kingdom descend, kneel, and serve:

The attitude that you should have is the one that Jesus Christ had: He always had the nature of God, but he did not think that by force he should try to remain equal with God. Instead of this, of his own free will he gave up all he had, and took the nature of a servant. He became like a human being and appeared in human likeness. He was humble and walked the path of obedience all the way to death—his death on the cross. (Philippians 2:5-8, GNB).

What a striking contrast between the two kingdoms! The above passage calls us to adopt the selfless, other-centered principles of God’s Kingdom, “The attitude that you should have is the one that Jesus Christ had.” Cosmic conflict theology does not call us merely to admire God and his Kingdom from a distance, but rather to join his Kingdom and to adopt the same attitude as the King!

The Early Christians

The early Christians expected Jesus to return in their lifetimes, but the years turned into decades, and the church continued to experience relentless persecution. For the early church, the situation must have been very discouraging. Eventually, the last of the original group of disciples still alive was John, and he was imprisoned on the island of Patmos. Like Job, Ezekiel, and Isaiah, those early Christians needed a larger perspective, so God sent them the letter we call “Revelation.” Revelation means “to reveal” or “to clarify” something of great importance. The book opens with the words, “This is the Revelation of Jesus Christ” (Revelation 1:1, GW) and then goes on to describe the tremendous back-and-forth battle between Christ and Satan.

This last book of the Bible, more than any other, was designed to be a wake-up call to the early Christians and to God’s people in the last days of earth’s history. It calls Jesus’ followers to consider that there is much more at stake than the mess we see on our own little planet. God is engaged in a war on a much larger battlefield, and Planet Earth is now the frontline in this war. This is the book that specifically mentions that “war broke out in heaven” and that the “ancient serpent, named the Devil or Satan” was “thrown to earth, and all his angels with him” (Revelation 12:7-9, GNB). In contrast to the imagery of Satan as a “huge red dragon” (Revelation 12:3, GNB), God is humbly portrayed as “the Lamb who was killed” (Revelation 5:12, GNB). People are described as taking sides in this battle—some receive the mark of the beast, while others receive the seal of God. In the context of a battle over the character of God and the nature of his Kingdom, the book of Revelation again and again refers to the central focus of the truth about God that Jesus revealed:

This is his report concerning the message from God and the truth revealed by Jesus Christ. (Revelation 1:2, GNB).

The dragon was furious with the woman and went off to fight against the rest of her descendants, all those who obey God’s commandments and are faithful to the truth revealed by Jesus. (Revelation 12:17, GNB).

I am a servant together with you and with other believers, all those who hold to the truth that Jesus revealed. Worship God! For the truth that Jesus revealed is what inspires the prophets. (Revelation 19:10, GNB).

I also saw the souls of those who had been executed because they had proclaimed the truth that Jesus revealed and the word of God. (Revelation 20:4, GNB).

Revelation paints the picture that God has already won the war in heaven. Satan is described as being thrown out of heaven, and the loyal angels now offer the highest praise to God. God’s incarnation and self-sacrifical death constitute the means that ensure the victory of this war in heavenly places:

Again I looked, and I heard angels, thousands and millions of them! They stood around the throne, the four living creatures, and the elders, and sang in a loud voice: “The Lamb who was killed is worthy to receive power, wealth, wisdom, and strength, honor, glory, and praise!” (Revelation 5:11, 12, GNB).

From the perspective of the early Christians, the war obviously was not over, and they must have resonated with the description of a battle that rages on:

And so be glad, you heavens, and all you that live there! But how terrible for the earth and the sea! For the Devil has come down to you, and he is filled with rage, because he knows that he has only a little time left. (Revelation 12:12, GNB).

The early Christians must have found much hope from the conclusion of the book. God promises that Satan will be defeated and that all who follow Jesus will one day dwell in the presence of God. Revelation allows us to see that while this conflict over the character of God still continues on our planet, we can be filled with hope by the encouraging message that God will be victorious in the end.

Our Mission in the Cosmic Conflict

It has been said that “[o]f all the things a fish is unlikely to discover, one of them is water.” Despite the fact that we are all literally immersed in a cosmic conflict that involves virtually every aspect of our lives, it is a view not often incorporated or emphasized in Christian theology. Yet this understanding is vitally important for all modern-day Christians. Why should we live in the dark, as Job did for a time, unaware that the trying circumstances on Planet Earth are the intense focus of God, Satan, and countless angels—and that we have a critically important role to play? Why should we live in the dark, as Daniel did for a time, unaware that our prayer life is so critically important in the battle against evil and for the advancement of God’s Kingdom?

Not until we begin to understand what the real issues are in this war are we able to fight effectively. As Christians, we are called to take up the same mission as Christ, who came to win the war by revealing God’s character of love and thereby dispelling the lies of Satan. We have one supreme command from Christ, and these are our “marching orders” in the cosmic conflict:

And now I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. If you have love for one another, then everyone will know that you are my disciples. (John 13:34, 35, GNB).

When we truly “love one another,” we reveal to those around us the character of our God who is love personified (1 John 4:8). When we take up the command of Christ to selflessly serve in the world rather than to dominate and control, we demonstrate to all those around us that God’s Kingdom is based on the principle of humble service to others.

To a suffering world that is asking, “Why so much pain?” Christians should have a clear and convincing answer that “an enemy has done this—not God!” (Matthew 13:28, NLT). Followers of Christ should be able to affirm, “Yes, God is all-powerful,” but at the same time explain the story of a universal conflict and how the “power” that God used to win this war was to become a helpless baby, a tender-hearted friend, and a suffering servant. As Christians, our highest mission is to vindicate God’s trustworthy character and to bring others, one by one, out of the bushes from the fear and mistrust of God and into the light of Jesus’ loving presence.

[1].    C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York, NY: Simon & Schuster, 1952), 51.

[2].  Luke Timothy Johnson, Ph.D., “The Romance of Manuscripts,” lecture for “The Great Courses,” in the series “Story of the Bible,” 2008.

[3].  In his book Saving God’s Reputation (New York, NY: T&T Clark International, 2006), Sigve Tonstad makes an excellent case for placing the “war in heaven” described in Revelation 12:7 as occurring prior to the creation of Adam and Eve.

[4].  Sigve Tonstad, Saving God’s Reputation (New York, NY: T&T Clark International, 2006), 129.

CHAPTER TWO

What Is Sin?

TIMOTHY R. JENNINGS

HAVE YOU EVER STRUGGLED WITH THE QUESTION of what constitutes sin? Is sin a commodity transferred from person to animal in a ritualistic way—or perhaps from sinner to Savior? Is it bad deeds, evil acts, or bad behavior? Is it a condition of heart and mind that is incompatible with life?

Recently I had the opportunity to speak with over 350 Christian high school students. I passed out cards and asked them to write down their answers to the question, “What is sin?” Here are a few of their responses:

- An act contrary to that for which God stands

- Something that separates us from God

- Doing something morally wrong

- Anything evil or unjust

- Something that brings us down

- The absence of anything good/anything not of God

- Doing anything you know, deep inside, is wrong

- Bad stuff

- A bad thing that Satan discovered and brought upon us

- The cause of all pain and suffering

- When you do something you feel guilty about

- Anything that makes God unhappy

- Something to be forgiven

- Whatever you do wrong, yet don’t even care what you did

The following two answers were submitted by more than 10 percent of the students:

- Sin is not following the Ten Commandments

- Sin is going against the will of God

As I contemplated these answers, I realized they seemed to break down into two general categories: (1) sin is bad behavior—an act of disobedience, something we do wrong; or, (2) sin is some evil commodity—an entity, element, “thing,” or “stuff” that separates us from God or makes us unhappy. It almost seemed that if we could only just get rid of this sin stuff, things would be a lot better. Is sin a substance we can transfer to someone else? Is sin simply doing bad acts? Or is it more?

Three students saw sin differently. Their answers pierced a deeper level of truth. To them, sin was something more than bad behavior and was certainly not a commodity that could be passed from one person to the next. These three saw sin as:

- The absence of love

- The opposite of God’s character—sin is being selfish

Focusing on self. Sin started with Satan and his desire to be greater than God. This is the root of all evil.

These three saw sin as a state of being, a defect in character, a deviation from God’s heart of love. How do you answer the question, “What is sin?” Now you might be thinking, who cares how we define sin; so long as we accept Jesus, we are saved. What difference does it make?

The difference between life and death.

The Right Diagnosis

As a doctor, one of the first skills I was taught was how to diagnose, because if the diagnosis is wrong, then the treatment is usually wrong. If I have a patient in heart failure, I might give a diuretic to help the kidneys remove excess fluid and take pressure off the heart and lungs. But if the patient actually has kidney failure, and I misdiagnose him with heart failure and give the diuretic, it will do no good.

Likewise, how we diagnose what sin is helps us understand God’s treatment plan so that we can cooperate more effectively with him to experience healing of heart and mind. Understanding what sin really is helps protect us from accepting as true one of the many false “remedies” or false gospels being promoted around the world.

So what is the right diagnosis? The Bible says, “Everyone who sins breaks the law; in fact, sin is lawlessness” (1 John 3:4).[1]  Sin is being lawless or without the law—being outside the law. The old King James Version says, “Sin is transgression of the law.” But that brings us to the next critical question—what is the law?

Before we can dissect sin, we need to know what law is being broken—with what law is sin actually out of harmony? We can describe God’s law in two primary ways:

1. A legal enactment by the Creator of the universe. An imposed set of rules to which created beings are required to adhere, upon threat of an imposed penalty by the Creator of the law.

2. A principle emanating from the Creator upon which life is designed to operate or function. Deviations are inherently incompatible with life as the Creator designed it.

From these two diverging ideas of God’s law, two separate views of sin have emerged; and, subsequently, two very different ways of resolving the sin problem have been taught.

From definition number one emerges the version that argues God is arbitrary and imposes laws upon his creatures that they must obey. When the law was broken, God, in order to be just, had to impose penalties upon his creatures. This view portrays sinful mankind under the legal condemnation of God and without hope of life eternal unless the “legal penalty” is paid. Sin, from this perspective, is merely disobedience to an imposed law. Rule breaking equals bad behavior—thus simplified by the high school students’ description of “not following the Ten Commandments.”

The way the proponents of this theory solve the sin problem is to propose that Jesus came as their “legal substitute.” They suggest that Jesus lived a sinless life and offered himself to God in the sinner’s place—and that all the “sins” of the world were “transferred” to Jesus  so that he experienced God’s “punitive justice,” thereby “paying our debt” for the crimes of sin committed by all humans. After this payment by Jesus, we were then granted “forgiveness” and life eternal, but only if we accept the payment of Christ’s “blood” on our behalf. Christ gets to live again because he never actually sinned, and we get to live forever because he paid our “legal debt.” This is commonly called the “penal substitution model” and stems entirely from the conclusion that God’s law is an imposed or enacted set of rules requiring him to enforce penalties in order to be just.

The Law of Life

But what if the law of God is not enacted, imposed, legislated, or decreed? What if God’s law is something entirely different? What if sin is something more sinister than a mere breaking of rules? What if sin is a damaging condition that kills people? Wouldn’t that call for a treatment or solution for sin that is more than just a legal payment? Is it possible that the sin situation requires some change in the heart of those affected?

How does the Bible define the law of God?

- Love does no harm to its neighbor. Therefore, love is the fulfillment of the law (Romans 13:10).

- The entire law is summed up in a single command: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Galatians 5:14).

- If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing right (James 2:8).

- “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments (Matthew 22:37-40; cf. Leviticus 19:18; cf. Deuteronomy 6:5).

The Bible teaches that God’s law is the “law of love.”  The “law of love” is not something God “created” but is the life principle that emanates from God’s very being, because “God is love” (1 John 4:8).  Love is not enacted or legislated or imposed but is simply the natural order of all things arising from the God of love. This law of love is the design template upon which God has constructed all life to operate and is described in Scripture in this way: “[Love is] not self-seeking”

(1 Corinthians 13:5). In other words, love is other-centered and outward moving. The law of love is the law of giving.

Such perfect love was revealed in Christ, “who did not think equality with God was something to be grasped, but gave himself to save mankind” (Philippians 2:6, 7; John 10:18).  “Greater love has no man than he gives his life for a friend,” and “this is how we know what love is, Christ gave himself for us, and we ought to give ourselves for our brothers” (1 John 3:16). “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son” (John 3:16, KJV).

When the God of love created, he created all life in harmony with his own character of love. Life is constructed to exist only when operating in perfect other-centered love. All life, health, and happiness are dependent upon harmony with this law (Romans 1:20, 13:8).

Love in Nature

In nature we see this design template in every breath we take. When we breathe, we give away carbon dioxide to the plants, and the plants freely give back oxygen to us—a perpetual circle of giving. This is how life was designed to function, which is the law of love in operation. If we break this principle by stepping outside the circle of giving and choose to stop giving away our carbon dioxide, then the only possible result, without intervention, is death by suffocation. But such a death occurs as a result of breaking the law of life, not as a legally imposed penalty.

Sin is stepping outside the law of love, breaking the circle of life’s normal operation, severing the outflow of selfless giving, violating the construction protocols for life. In other words, sin is “lawlessness,” or being outside the design template of life, outside of love. Sin is taking rather than giving, selfishness rather than selflessness. And just as biological death results when the law of respiration is broken, so too the unremedied breach in the law of love results in “eternal” death.

Broken Trust

Some get confused because the Bible describes sin in ways other than “lawlessness.” “Everything that does not come from faith is sin” (Romans 14:23). We might paraphrase this passage and say, “Failure to trust God is sin.” But why would failure to trust be the same as sin or “lawlessness”? Because God is love, and failure to trust God is failure to value love. And broken trust breaks down love.

Consider a young couple who are dating. The bonds of love are growing. But then one of them discovers the other is cheating. What happens to trust? Does the breach in trust impact love? But what if no cheating occurred, yet one still “believed” the other was cheating? Is trust still broken? When we believe lies, trust gets broken. This happened in the Garden of Eden. Satan lied about God; Adam and Eve believed the lies, and trust in God was broken.

Broken trust severs the circle of love and results in changes to the internal motives of the heart. Such change in heart motives result in changes in behavior, and we ultimately act badly. This is the third biblical definition of sin: “Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins” (James 4:17).

When Adam and Eve believed Satan’s lies about God, their trust in God was severed. Broken trust resulted in an internal change in their thinking and feeling. Their very natures, methods of operating, and internal motives were altered from perfect, other-centered love to selfishness—the “me first” principle. They sought to promote themselves and ate the forbidden fruit.

Selfishness is the opposite of love. It is taking rather than giving and is incompatible with life. Any living system that takes and refuses to give will eventually cease to exist. Consider eating, taking in food, but never giving back products of digestion to fertilize the earth. What would be the outcome?  Death.  Selfishness, taking, “me first” is a terminal condition. Without healing, without restoring God’s law of love into humankind, the only possible outcome is death. Thus the Bible teaches, “The wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23), and “sin when it is full grown brings forth death” (James 1:15).

The Symptoms of Sin

Sadly, throughout history, people have confused the reality of our sinful condition with the symptoms of that condition and concluded our problem is not a sinful heart but “bad acts” that arise from our corrupt hearts. But Jesus taught that the bad acts are actually symptoms of hearts and minds that are “sinful.” Jesus said: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Do not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:27, 28).

Ever since Adam and Eve sinned, each human being has been born with a heart and mind out of harmony with the law of love. We are born self-centered. And it is this defective condition of heart that leads to “acts of sin.”

When people have pneumonia, they have symptoms of cough and fever. The coughs and fever are not the problem. They are the symptoms. The real problem is the underlying pneumonia. The treatment for pneumonia is not merely to focus on the behavior of coughing or the symptom of fever but to treat the underlying disease. When the underlying infection is cured, the fever and cough resolve. Likewise, when we understand that God’s law is the law of love, we understand that sin is “a condition of being”—a condition of being outside the very design for life. As the discerning students wrote, “Sin is the absence of love”—“Selfishness, the opposite of God.” Sinfulness is “sickfulness,” being empty of love and full of the sickness of selfishness. Sin, therefore, is a condition that is opposed to love and, if not cured by God, will result in eternal death. This terrible condition has symptoms that we call sins.

God’s Diagnostic Tool

God, in his mercy, understood that not only does sin kill, but it also dulls the senses and makes it hard for us to discern our fatal condition. Sin impairs our ability to see how sick we really are. Therefore, God gave us the written law (Ten Commandments) as a diagnostic instrument to convict us of sin, to awaken us to our terminal state, to arouse us from lethargy and lead us to him for re-creation and cure. Paul tells us we couldn’t recognize our sick state of sinfulness if it weren’t for the effectiveness of the law in diagnosing us. “I would not have known what sin was except through the law” (Romans 7:7).

But sadly, far too many have misunderstood God’s gracious use of the written law. Having accepted the false idea that God imposes law and therefore imposes penalties, they conclude that sin is primarily behavioral. The compounded errors of misunderstanding God’s law to be an imposed law and misdiagnosing our problem as behavioral rather than getting to the root of our heart problem have resulted in a gospel “remedy” that fails to heal. The truth is that love begets life. Sin, being out of harmony with love, is out of harmony with the foundation of life itself and produces death. Sin is a condition of heart and mind driven by self-promotion; and, if left unremedied, this condition is terminal.

Jesus Is Our Remedy

Understanding that God’s law of love is the principle upon which life is designed to function, we then realize that sin is being “lawless” or out of harmony with the basis for life. And when we understand that this condition, unless remedied, is terminal, we realize our need of a Savior. With these truths in mind, we understand more clearly what Jesus actually came to accomplish. He came to reveal the truth in order to dispel the lies about God and win his earthly children back to trust. But Jesus had to accomplish more than a revelation of truth—he came as our Substitute. He did this, not in some legal way to pay some legal penalty, but rather, by becoming one with us, he took our condition upon himself so that in his own person he could cure our terminal condition.

Jesus “did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness” (Philippians 2:6, 7).  He was “made like his brothers in every way” (Hebrews 2:17) so that he could do what we could not do—perfectly rewrite the law of love back into the human being.  In Jesus, God dwells in humanity, and through Jesus, God’s law of love again flows into the human being. Jesus was “tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin” (Hebrews 4:15).

Jesus took upon himself our “infirmities,” sickness, weakness (Isaiah 53:4) and was tempted with powerful human emotions to act in self interest. In Gethsemane, Jesus agonized and was tempted to do what?  Save himself. But each time when the temptation came to “save self,” Jesus instead chose to “give” self. In Jesus, that unique hybrid of God and man, love destroyed the infection of selfishness and perfectly restored God’s love into the human species. Heaven and earth were united in Christ once again!  All who accept the truth Jesus revealed and are won to trust will then open up their hearts and experience God’s love poured into them (Romans 5:5). This supernatural re-creation of character restores people back into the image of God and into unity with God and his life of love.

[1].  All Scriptures in this chapter are taken from the New International Version (NIV) unless otherwise specified.

CHAPTER THREE

Why Do We Suffer?

DOROTHEE COLE

SOME EXPERIENCES IN LIFE CAN threaten even the most devout Christian’s trust in God. When pain and grief strike close to home, the world around us darkens, and we often feel God has abandoned us. The brutality of suffering in this world causes reasonable people to ask, “If God is as loving as Christians claim, then why do we suffer so much?”

The following is a message from a man who has gone through such an experience. He asks heartfelt questions with honesty and courage in an attempt to understand why God seemed to have left his side:

My wife died just a few days ago. She was hit with several strokes following successful brain surgery. I am grappling with the hard issues of life now that she is gone. I had about a year to pray for her during her illness and felt confident that it was God’s will for her to live. Why would it not be? But I never saw one speck of evidence of God’s intervening on her behalf, though she was anointed twice and hundreds of prayers ascended daily for her. She was young, only 57, strong physically and strong in the work of the church, dedicated to ministering to young people through many years…. I believed that by standing on the promises and engaging in passionate prayer, the battle would be won in her favor. I don’t understand why it couldn’t work out that way. Why does God bring back lost kitty cats and find lost car keys in the sand but we can’t depend on him to rescue our loved ones, no matter how we trust and pray?

I have talked to others who are coming to the opinion that prayer is like rolling the dice—results could fall either way. I can understand that God does not want us to be just “rice Christians”; but if we stand on the promises, adhere to the conditions, and pray with passion, should we not have a reasonable expectation of a favorable reply? Or even just a reply? I really do feel that these unanswered questions may destroy what faith I have left.[1]

How can we come to grips with painful experiences such as this? Much of what we endure is physical in nature, yet often the greatest suffering is psychological. Anxiety, feelings of inadequacy, depression, loneliness, and hopelessness compound the physical pain. While it may be somewhat helpful to recognize that all of humanity suffers and that no one is immune to the misery of sickness and death, it is the magnitude and the perceived unfairness of this misery that leave us struggling to understand.

As we grapple with these difficult issues, it is helpful to recognize that our world is filled with the result of living apart from the paradise that God originally designed for us. Perhaps we can find some consolation in the fact that God never intended for us to live this way. He planned for us to live in happiness and harmony with one another—free from fear, suffering, and death. Jesus, our Creator in human form,[2] prayed to the Father, “May your Kingdom come; may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10, GNB). If Jesus asks us to pray for God’s will to be done on earth, we can only conclude that the world we live in is not God’s ideal. It doesn’t take much looking around at the wars, hunger, and disease to realize that it is the devil who is “the ruler of this world” (John 14:30). God’s will is frequently not represented on Planet Earth. God’s will is not for pain to continue; but as we have seen in previous chapters, it is the enemy’s determination to instigate suffering and then to pin it all on God, thus causing people to feel that they cannot trust the divine. And for the most part, his plan seems to be successful. When disaster strikes, we rarely hear people implicate Satan’s rebellion against God’s original design as a cause. Instead, people frequently blame God and make him directly responsible for their situation.

But there was a short time in history—the three and a half years of Jesus’ ministry—when this world actually glimpsed God’s will for humanity. During that time, he healed everyone who had faith in him. Whole villages were freed from disease and pain. The recipients of Christ’s healing touch weren’t necessarily devout or knowledgeable about God. On several occasions, Jesus healed without even being asked to help (see Luke 7:14; 22:51). He showed us that God’s heart is filled with compassion, love, and an ever-willing desire to heal and forgive. Jesus’ assurance to all in this world who are hurting is that in him we have seen the heart of God. This understanding can become a source of great comfort in the midst of suffering.

If God exhibits the same tenderness of heart toward us that Jesus did toward the sick and suffering of Israel two thousand years ago, why doesn’t he heal us today when we earnestly pray? Why does the all-powerful, all-loving Creator allow this world to continue with so much cruelty, starvation, sadness, and hate? Why doesn’t God relieve the suffering of the sick, poor, and abused? Why would a loving God allow the mass executions of Auschwitz, the September 11 destruction of the World Trade Center, the genocide in Darfur, or the destructive earthquakes of Haiti, Chile, and Japan? If God so desires our well-being, why isn’t he rescuing his people—at minimum, his faithful ones?

In order to find answers to these difficult questions, we must dig deep into the issues of the great cosmic war between good and evil. Jesus won this war, in principle, two thousand years ago at the Cross, but the battle continues on this earth and is felt in our very bodies and minds. Despite God’s love and compassion toward us, is it possible that he is constrained to help in certain situations because he would be accused of paying off those who serve him by providing an easy life for them? If all of God’s friends were free from pain and suffering, and if God lifted the scourge from every true Christian, it would be quite easy to spot them in this world. God’s people would stand out from afar. “Look at them—those who are blessed with health and who escaped natural disasters, poverty, disease, and abuse.” “Look how it pays to serve the Lord, for he will take good care of you.” The Pharisees had this kind of a worldview. They thought that health and riches were evidence of God’s blessings; whereas disease, poverty, or disasters were proof that God was punishing people for their sin (John 9:2). Many today have a similar understanding.

If wealth and health followed all who serve God, would that encourage people to follow him for love’s sake—or for their own selfish preservation? Can we really love God for who he is and for what he stands if we serve him only for the benefits that await us? In the book of Job, Satan accused God of paying off his servant. He challenged God by claiming that Job served him only because he had given Job a good life (Job 1:10, 11). But Job proved Satan wrong and was determined to trust God even though he and his family became innocent victims of Satan’s violence (Job 13:15). Job’s so-called friends alleged that Job was suffering because of his sin and that God would remove Job’s suffering if he repented. Eventually, God himself corrected their misunderstanding by praising Job and refuting the worldview of his “friends” (Job 42:7). The book of Job gives us an important insight into the origin of human suffering. God rebuked the three friends precisely for their position that he punishes sin in a retributive sense.[3] But God went on record before humans and the angelic host (Job 1:6) that he is not the one who is out to inflict misery upon his creatures. Jesus clarifies that God shows kindness to the “good” and “bad”: “For he makes his sun to shine on bad and good people alike, and gives rain to those who do good and to those who do evil” (Matthew 5:45, GNB).[4]

Some have concluded that the existence of suffering negates the presence of an all-good and all-powerful God. He must, therefore, not exist.[5] But for a moment, let’s imagine that God would relieve evil and its result in every instance. C. S. Lewis notes:

We can, perhaps, conceive of a world in which God corrected the results of this abuse of free will by his creatures at every moment: so that a wooden beam became soft as grass when it was used as a weapon, and the air refused to obey me if I attempted to set up in it the sound waves that carry lies or insults. But such a world would be one in which wrong actions were impossible, and in which, therefore, freedom of the will would be void; nay, if the principle were carried out to its logical conclusion, evil thoughts would be impossible, for the cerebral matter which we use in thinking would refuse its task when we attempted to frame them.[6]

If God were to remove all possibility for evil—the true source of our suffering—he might as well create robots that are preprogrammed to do good. But human beings were created in God’s image with the capacity and the choice to love God in return. Love cannot exist apart from freedom. We are incapable of righteous, moral acts unless we also have the capacity to do evil; we cannot really love God unless we also have the option to reject him. God created us with the freedom to love, help others, and sacrifice self for others; but he also granted us the freedom to live selfishly, even to the extreme of taking another’s life. It appears that the potential for suffering, even of the innocent,[7] is unavoidable in a rebellious world where freedom reigns.

Even though our free choices may directly cause suffering for others, how are we to understand the role of natural disasters that appear to be out of human control? Did God instigate the Bubonic Plague in the fourteenth century, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, or the 2004 tsunami in Southeast Asia—disasters in which thousands lost their lives? Did God bring about the 2010 earthquake in Haiti—in which an estimated 316,000 people died, 300,000 were injured, and 1,000,000 were made homeless[8]—because of the practice of Voodoo in Haiti? No evidence exists that God sends natural disasters such as earthquakes, floods, or tornados to single out a particular group of “sinners,” since these disasters affect atheists, Christians, Muslims, and Hindus alike—whether they’re devout or secular. In some instances, Satan was directly responsible for disasters that struck people without warning, yet these have been wrongly attributed to God. For example, when Satan left God’s presence to punish Job and his family, the servant who witnessed the destructive event (that we know was caused by Satan) exclaimed, “The fire of God fell from heaven and burned up the sheep and the servants, and consumed them” (Job 1:16, NRSV). Satan was also the one who sent a powerful storm that killed all of Job’s children (Job 1:15-17, 19). Even Job’s “friends” misinterpreted Job’s fate by invoking God as the punisher for some unknown sin. However, the Bible unequivocally tells us that it was Satan who brought about Job’s suffering (Job 2:7). In poetic language, we are made aware of a powerful enemy who “destroyed the world and made it into a wasteland,” and who “demolished the world’s greatest cities and had no mercy on his prisoners” (Isaiah 14:17, NLT).

Two events in the Bible that are attributed to God[9]—the Flood and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah—came with much warning and an active rescue effort on God’s part to save his children from these disasters. In fact, rather than interpreting these events as God’s retributive punishment, the narrative reveals a God who is actively trying to rescue his people from being engulfed by their dark spiritual surroundings.[10] The Bible records instances when God disciplined people to prevent greater harm.[11] What we can be sure of, however, is that God in human form never inflicted physical suffering on anyone. Also significant is that Jesus rebuked his disciples when they wanted to call down fire to destroy rebellious people (Luke 9:54, 55).

Jesus commented on a “natural disaster” in his day when a tower in Siloam fell and killed eighteen people. Were they killed because of their sinfulness? “What about those eighteen people in Siloam who were killed when the tower fell on them? Do you suppose this proves that they were worse than all the other people living in Jerusalem? No indeed!” (Luke 13:4, 5, GNB). God’s relationship to natural disasters may be seen in Christ: Jesus didn’t cause a storm but commanded it to “Be still!” (Mark 4:39, NRSV). And the earthquakes linked with Christ’s death and resurrection didn’t kill anyone; rather, they were associated with the resurrection of many lives (Matthew 27:51, 52), as well as the resurrection of Christ himself (Matthew 28:2).

If God does not send natural disasters such as tornados or floods to punish people, why does he not at minimum prevent or lessen their effect, especially when the inestimable suffering caused appears unrelated to human guilt and rebellion? Gregory A. Boyd holds that God does not will evil in our lives, but that it is a result of a combination of our free choices and the interconnectedness and complexity of life in a sinful and fallen world.[12] Our world is corrupted due to the sin of humankind (Revelation 11:18), Satan’s dominion over the elements (Job 1:16, 19), as well as many other complex dynamic processes (i.e., the “butterfly effect”[13]). Generation after generation of human rebellion has resulted in an imperfect environment in which natural disasters and diseases are prone to happen. Paul tells us that “the whole creation has been groaning” to be set free from the dominion of sin (Romans 8:22, NRSV). As a result, sin has innocent bystanders; and even God’s followers may fall victim to chance events such as natural disasters, or become the incidental prey of the animal world. Yet the question remains: Shouldn’t we expect a loving God to intervene and to save at minimum those who asked him for protection?

As we examine the Bible to consider this question, we may be surprised to discover that not only do God’s friends at times become innocent bystanders of calamities, but they are also often hit the hardest. God did not prevent Cain from killing Abel; and ever since that time, God’s people have experienced unspeakable hardship. The prophet Elisha, who healed Naaman of leprosy, was himself sick in bed with a fatal disease, which eventually caused his death (2 Kings 13:14). Isaiah is said to have been sawed in half in a hollow log by the evil king Manasseh.[14] Jeremiah, who stayed with his rebellious people until the very end, was hauled off to Egypt, where he was stoned to death.[15] Paul, who could heal others and who served the Lord with all his being, suffered from a painful physical ailment that God did not remove from him despite his prayers (2 Corinthians 12:7). John the Baptist, the greatest prophet who ever lived (according to Jesus), was decapitated, and his head was served on a plate to a young girl who danced for the king (Matthew 14:12). We read about James, who received no help from God and was killed; while at virtually the same time, Peter received help from an angel who opened the prison doors (Acts 12:2, 7). Didn’t people pray for James, one of the most prominent leaders of the early church? Did God let him die because he wasn’t as valuable as Peter for the spread of the message? Certainly not! So why was James left to die and Peter allowed to live? We don’t have all the answers in this cosmic battle between good and evil, but we do know that they all shared a common enemy—the one who desires to destroy anyone who loves and longs to know more of God.

As we ponder the lives of God’s people, none stand out as clearly and unforgettably as our Lord himself—Jesus the Creator who became a human being, lived the life of a servant, and died the cruel death of a criminal, even though he never harmed anyone and never turned anyone away. Like so many others who have suffered and begged for God’s intervention, the Son of God also pled with his Heavenly Father to take away his cup of suffering (Mark 14:36). In him, we witness the pinnacle of unfairness, the high point of injustice in human history. And in the darkness of grief, it was our Lord who cried, “My God, my God, why did you abandon me?” (Matthew 27:46, GNB). Jesus himself experienced the sense of God-forsakenness and separation from the Source of life. Jesus himself experienced the horrific and undeserved consequences of sin. He (the omni-benevolent God in human form) became a casualty of the devil’s kingdom.

How does Jesus’ suffering, victimization, and resultant death help us in our suffering? By becoming a human and dying as a result of our rebellion, God identified with all of the victims of this world. God has experienced grief ever since he created us (Genesis 6:6; Judges 10:16). But when God became a human in Jesus Christ, he moved close to us by taking the plight of humanity upon himself and suffering rejection, hate, torture, and murder. The only satisfactory answer to human suffering is seen through the lens of God’s own anguish on the Cross. Without the Cross, God appears merely as a distant spectator of our suffering. In light of the Cross, however, we see that God, through Jesus, voluntarily became human to take on the worst of our suffering—a sense of separation from God.

Despite his anguish, Jesus remained faithful to God’s ultimate law of love—he loved his enemies, blessed those who cursed him, and forgave those who tortured him (Luke 23:34). To the principles of God’s kingdom, he remained faithful to the end. Through his resurrection, he offers all who are victims today a much better tomorrow. Even more, Jesus reassures us in our suffering that he is with us “always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20, GNB). As we allow Jesus to bind our wounds, he can help us to become mature in character and hope while we experience the painful consequences of living in a world of sin. In Jesus, God reassures us that our suffering is not a punishment sent to chastise us for our sin, but that our affliction is ultimately the result of humanity’s original separation from God.

Many instances demonstrate that our own sin will cause us to suffer, but frequently it’s impossible to establish a cause-and-effect relationship between our individual sin and our suffering (see John 9:2, 3). Jesus reassured his disciples that the blind man was born blind not because of his sins or his parents’ sins but so that the works of God could be revealed in him. This does not mean that God willed his blindness just so that he could show Jesus’ power through him. Rather, God’s stance toward suffering was fully revealed in Jesus’ healing of the blind man. In a world where humans have free moral choice, good and evil must be allowed to ripen side by side. God’s will for humanity (our healing) must be seen in contrast to the enemy’s will for humanity (our suffering).

So what about prayer? Do our pleas to God make any difference? Although we don’t understand why some prayers are answered in the way we expect and others aren’t, this should by no means suggest that prayer is ineffective. We remember Jesus, our brother, who prayed daily to remain in agreement and unity with his Father—and our Father. Our prayers are powerful, not to accomplish a life without suffering but to facilitate at-one-ment and intimacy with God—a God who suffers with us for our sake and who can help us through our suffering.

By fostering our connection with God, prayer is a vital tool that assists us in active spiritual warfare. We are told that Daniel’s prayer took twenty-one days to be answered, and that Michael—the “protector of God’s children”—had to personally intervene in this conflict with the powers of evil (Daniel 10:13). Paul admonishes us to “pray without ceasing” (2 Timothy 1:3, NKJV) because “prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other’s spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out” (Ephesians 6:18, MSG). In this battle, we can be sure that our God works tirelessly for our benefit—all within the boundaries of the kind of freedom that ensures our happiness and the happiness of our loved ones for eternity, even if we don’t immediately see the results of his work. Jesus told his disciples that “this kind does not go out except by prayer and fasting” (Matthew 17:21, NASB). In other words, there are times when prayer is essential; and by failing to pray, we may not be able to resist the power of evil. We can be assured that the prayer of a person living right with God is very powerful in bringing God’s Kingdom to this planet (James 5:16). When we pray, we give God permission to act in our life and to protect against the evil powers of this world; and we become equipped to represent him and to build his heavenly Kingdom on earth.

The question poses itself, “Is there any benefit to our suffering?” The Bible tells us that Jesus was made “perfect through sufferings” (Hebrew 2:10, NRSV). The Greek word for “perfect” (teleioō) can also mean “complete,” in the sense of consummate or mature. Did Jesus’ character, though sinless at every stage of his life, achieve ultimate maturity at the end of his life? An apple is perfect at every stage of development, yet it is not complete until it has fully ripened and matured. So also, Jesus’ sufferings, which ultimately led to his death, brought his mission to full maturity. While I do not believe that God punishes us to make us suffer (as it was not God but people driven by satanic hate who caused Jesus’ suffering), God can make the best of a bad situation by using it to refine our character, if we let him. This may explain why Paul could say that we can even rejoice in our suffering:

Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. (Romans 5:3-5, NIV).

Verses such as this are hard to read when we are in the middle of pain. But after some time has passed, we may be able to look back and see that God worked for our good in our suffering and that he was able to bring about healing and greater maturity.

One thing is for sure: We don’t have all of the answers yet. One day, however, God will “pull back the curtain” for us to see the complexities and cosmic forces that were involved in every instance of suffering and pain, as well as the effect of every single prayer. God wants us to come to him when we are in agony, and he welcomes our questions. He listens to our honest prayers that lament our pain and even our doubts in his unfailing love. God is ever willing to lead us through our rough times and to help us regain our trust in him. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus assured his listeners: “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule. You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you” (Matthew 5:3, 4, MSG).

God’s ultimate goal is to transform us into mature human beings who love him because we know that his character and ways are trustworthy and good. Meanwhile, even through our present suffering, he continues to bring us closer to him and wants to enable us to become vital participants who help him bring this war to a close. He is looking for people who, with the help of his Spirit, are willing to actively bring his Kingdom to this earth. God is seeking more friends such as Job, who will trust him even when everything seems to be falling apart. Though our pain and sadness were never God’s will, perhaps we will open ourselves to his love and allow him to heal us even amidst our suffering. Then, together we can help others to see that God is love; and that all he does, he does in love.

[1].  Used with permission from a friend who has slowly found his way back to God.

[2].  The apostle John tells us that all things were made through the Word, who is Jesus Christ,   God in the flesh (John 1:3, 14).

[3].   For more on the topic of punishment versus discipline, see chapter 11, “Do You Fear God’s Justice?”

[4].   Even though God did use primitive measures of material blessings to reach his rebellious children in Old Testament times (see Leviticus 26, for example), this is not his ideal. God’s ideal is seen in Jesus Christ, in whom God blesses all people on earth. To be “perfect—just as your Father in heaven is perfect” means to love our friends as well as our enemies (Matthew 5:43-48).

[5].  See, for example, Paul Draper (1989). “Pain and Pleasure: An Evidential Problem for Theists.” Noûs 23 (3): 331–350; or William L. Rowe. “The Evidential Argument from Evil: A Second Look.” The Evidential Argument From Evil. Daniel Howard-Snyder, ed. (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1996).

[6].  C. S. Lewis The Problem of Pain (New York: HarperCollins, 1996) 24, 25.

[7].  Innocent is here used in the sense that some people are affected by calamities to which they did not clearly contribute by their own action. For example, an innocent child may be killed by a drunk driver.

[8].  <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2010_Haiti_earthquake>.

[9].  From the point of view of the Bible writer, the Flood and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah are attributed to God’s doing.

[10].  See chapter 11, “Do You Fear God’s Justice?” for further discussion on God’s attempt to rescue Noah, who was considered “the only good man left on earth.” In the case of Sodom and Gomorrah, it is likely that the rebelliousness of those cities would have eventually engulfed Israel, as well. Also significant is that Hosea 11:8 describes this destruction in these terms: “How can I give you up, Israel? How can I abandon you?…as I did Admah

…[and] Zeboiim?” (GNB). Admah and Zeboiim were the two other cities destroyed with Sodom and Gomorrah. See also chapter 25, “The Wrath of the Lamb” for a discussion on the biblical meaning of “giving up” and “abandoning.”

[11].  For example, see Jeremiah 30:11 (NLT).

[12].  Gregory A. Boyd. Is God to Blame? (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003), 96.

[13]  According to the chaos theory, small variations of the initial condition of a dynamical system may produce large variations in the long-term behavior of the system. For example, it has been hypothesized that the flap of a butterfly wing in one part of the earth can, under certain conditions, bring about a hurricane in another part of the world.

[14].  According to tradition, Isaiah was killed by being sawed in half. Some believe that this is what is referred to in Hebrews 11:37 (NASB), which states that some prophets were “sawn in two.” See Archer Gleason, A Survey of Old Testament Introduction, rev. exp. ed. (Chicago: Moody Press, 1994), 366.

[15].  Jeremiah died in Egypt with his people, but the exact cause of death is not given in the Bible. According to Jewish tradition, he was stoned to death.

CHAPTER FOUR

Freedom—What’s Love

Got to Do with It?

TOM EWALL

And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.

—John 8:32, NKJV

DWIGHT PURCHASED A RING AND reserved a table at the best restaurant in town. He and Monika had been dating for more than a year, and he was convinced that she was the one. At just the right time in the conversation, he leaned forward and asked for her hand in marriage. She seemed to hesitate, however, and there was a period of awkward silence. Dwight had considered this possibility beforehand and—because he wanted to ensure he received a “yes”—he reached into his coat pocket, took out a gun, and placed it on the table. The message was clear: “Marry me—or else.”

One moment, Monika was free to accept or reject Dwight’s offer of marriage; the next, her freedom was taken away. Did this restriction of freedom increase or diminish her love for Dwight? This story illustrates a fundamental truth: love and freedom go hand in hand. To the extent that freedom is restricted, love and the capacity to love proportionally decline.

In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve were absolutely free—not only free to converse with God, but also free to meet with God’s enemy at the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. God’s warning to them was not a restriction of their freedom but was rather God saying: “You are free to listen to Satan, but please don’t. You can’t possibly imagine the suffering that will result if you do.”

Eve chose to go to the tree and speak with the serpent, who diabolically asked, “Did God really tell you not to eat fruit from any tree in the garden?” (Genesis 3:1, GNB). These words were calculated to suggest that God was restricting their freedom. The perceived loss of freedom proportionally diminished their love for God.

This book has already made the case that Satan’s attack at the tree was based on negative insinuations about God’s character. Satan essentially painted the picture of a restrictive, selfish god who had a gun on the table, pointed at Adam and Eve. Using these lies about God’s character, the enemy deceived Adam and Eve into distrusting God, which in turn led them to disobey. The tempter suggested that their disobedience was the road to freedom, but it actually enslaved the human race. Our fundamental problem started with a misrepresentation of God’s character, which brought our world under the rule of God’s enemy (John 12:31) and enslaved it to sin (Romans 6:6, 16-22).

The most important aspect of faith is our mental picture of God. Our actual picture of God, not our theoretical knowledge about God, most influences how we feel about him. It’s impossible to enjoy a genuinely passionate and loving relationship with God when our mental picture of him doesn’t inspire passionate love.[1]

From that first lie in Eden, this distorted picture of God has impacted the entire human race. We have continued to imagine that our freedom is threatened by God and that he essentially says to us, “Love me, or I will burn you in hell.” We have no hope of a true love relationship with God if we cannot trust him and understand that we have been lied to. How could our picture of God be repaired? Since our fundamental problem is based on a distorted picture of God, correcting that false picture must be at the heart of the remedy that sets us free. As believing the serpent’s lies about God led to distrust of God, which led to disobedience, believing the truth about God is the remedy that leads us back to trusting God, making true obedience possible once again.

When Moses asked to see God’s glory, God proclaimed his character to him (Exodus 33:18, 19). God’s glory is his character. Similarly, the name of a person to the Hebrews was a designation of character. Jesus said, “I have glorified thee on the earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do…. I have manifested thy name” (John 17:4, 6, KJV). Completing the work of glorifying God and manifesting his name is the full revealing of God’s character. This was Jesus’ mission. Everything he did was for this purpose.

As the opponent to God’s kingdom of kindness and love, Satan desired power (Isaiah 14:13). In order to achieve this goal, he has led both angels and humans away from God by misrepresenting God’s character. In order to refute the enemy’s lies, Christ revealed the truth about God. In Christ we see God as he really is: compassionate, flexible, patient, merciful, gentle, kind, interested in others, polite, careful, humble, and willing to serve others. Christ stood out in dramatic contrast to the religious leaders of the time, revealing God to be very different than their representations of him—both by what he taught of God and by how he treated others.

Those who do not understand what true freedom looks like can easily be scared off by demonstrations of power. A good example of how God uses his power is seen in Christ’s washing of his disciples’ feet.[2] When we take into account Christ’s claim, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9, GNB), we see that God must be amazingly humble. In Christ’s own words, he came “to serve” and “not to be served” (Matthew 20:28, GNB). Suppose we asked the question, “Are you a servant of God—or is God your servant?” Some might recoil in horror and say, “I am God’s servant, of course!” However, we cannot deny that God, through Jesus Christ, has shown us that he is our Servant. When we remember his words, “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father,” we come to the astonishing realization that God, the Creator of all things, the Master of the universe, the King of kings and Lord of lords, came as a servant, even to the point of washing feet, which was thought to be beneath the dignity of anyone but a lowly servant to perform. The picture of God revealed by Jesus stands in dramatic contrast to the claims Satan made about him in the Garden.

The washing of the disciples’ feet was only one of many remarkable actions revealed in the life of Jesus. We would do well to consider all the acts and teachings of Jesus Christ as a representation of God’s character. God has often been portrayed along the lines that the enemy has presented him—as one who is unforgiving, severe, harsh, inflexible, and just waiting to punish those who act contrary to his wishes. This picture of God is not what Jesus revealed. The God we see in Christ is completely selfless. We can perceive through reading the gospels that God’s desire is 100 percent for the well being of his creatures—this is the nature of agape love. Thus God would have his children do good, not as an arbitrary requirement of some law, but because other-centered love is the only way to happiness, well being, and freedom.

God created us to love and to be loved, but what does other-centered love have to do with freedom? Have you ever known someone who was forced against his or her will to love? God created us with the ability not only to love, but also to reject love because he knows that freedom is a prerequisite to love.

Satan lied about God, accusing him of being unloving and restricting freedom (Genesis 3:1). When Adam and Eve believed the lie, they voluntarily surrendered their freedom. If we do not know God, we cannot freely choose him; for we would be choosing the false picture of him we have in our minds, rather than the true God. Hence, the first step in regaining our original freedom is to correct our false picture of God. Only when we are confronted with the reality of God’s true character can we be truly free to choose. To reveal his character, it was necessary for God to give his all—even to the point of death. When we learn this truth—that God is the very personification of love itself—we can once again be free.

God must view freedom of choice as supremely important. How else can we explain that a being so good and so powerful would allow the suffering and injustice we see? The very fact that Satan was allowed to spread his lies to Adam and Eve is proof that God is a God of freedom.

In order for there to be love, there must be the possibility of love rejected. Love cannot be forced, as love forced is not love at all. Love must be freely given. Given that God is love and has created us in his image, it is not surprising that God would view love, and hence freedom, so highly.

An alternative possibility as to why suffering and injustice exist is that God wills these things to happen. However, the Bible informs us that God is frustrated by these things:

They have no conscience. Right and wrong mean nothing to them. They stand for nothing, stand up for no one, throw orphans to the wolves, exploit the poor…. Unspeakable! Sickening! What’s happened in this country? You are evil, and you lie and cheat to make yourselves rich. You are powerful and prosperous, but you refuse to help the poor get the justice they deserve…. Look at the terrible things going on in this country. I am shocked! (Jeremiah 5:27, 28, 30, MSG).

To imagine how things that frustrate and upset God could be in accordance with his will is difficult. We also note that Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” which implies that God’s will is frequently not being done. The idea that God’s will is being done on earth paints a disturbing picture of God. When we see the frustrations and injustice of this world and the pain of loss and separation that disease, death, and divorce bring (just to name a couple of examples), one wonders what sort of God would desire such a world as this. A more satisfying explanation is that this world does not demonstrate God’s will.

We most clearly see God’s will revealed in the Person of Jesus Christ. One may question why injustice and evil exist, given God’s opposition to them. The incongruity between a just, powerful, and loving God, and an unjust, cruel, and painful world, is in part explained by the high respect God gives to our free will. God prefers that we have the freedom to reject his love over the alternative of being mere robots who could neither love nor appreciate him.

A common way of dealing with the existence of suffering is to suggest that God allows it for some purpose unknown to us. For example, it is often suggested that God permits us to suffer as a means to remove the warts from our character, so to speak. This way of thinking impacts how we understand God’s responsibility for the evil that comes upon us. We may rationalize God’s plans as being a good thing for us; but if we believe that the death and cruelty that personally touch us are divinely orchestrated by God for our benefit, this must damage our relationship with God. How can we passionately love someone whom we secretly believe is, for example, responsible for taking the one we love? I say “secretly” because our conscious minds do not always allow us to give voice, even internally, to what our hearts really question, namely: “How could God do such a thing to me if he loves me?” To say that he does so for our betterment rings hollow.

The suffering that exists in our world is not designed by God—it is due to the disruptive element called “sin.” When people choose to live contrary to the principles of God’s love, they reap the results of their harmful choices. Many imagine that God is inflicting terrible things upon us; while in reality, God is working in and through our own choices. The Cross reveals the ultimate example of God’s interaction with our choices. It reminds me of the following story.

The SS hanged two Jewish men and a youth in front of the whole camp. The men died quickly, but the death throes of the youth lasted for half an hour. “Where is God? Where is he?” someone asked behind me. As the youth still hung in torment in the noose after a long time, I heard the man call again, “Where is God now?” And I heard a voice in myself answer: “Where is he? He is here. He is hanging there on the gallows.”[3]

What a beautiful way of expressing the thought! God, far from causing the suffering that comes to us, suffers with us more than we can imagine. God accepts with grace the hatred and abuse ignorantly cast upon him. He has revealed the truth about himself through Jesus Christ. How would God respond when tortured, reviled, mocked? In Jesus Christ, we see the answer to this question. Jesus blessed his persecutors and looked for any glimmer of hope in those treating him so atrociously. While being put through so much suffering, his concern was not for himself but for others, including those causing his pain. How quickly Jesus responded to the thief who opened his heart!

When a man takes one step toward God, God takes more steps toward that man than there are sands in the worlds of time.[4]

How liberating to catch a glimpse of God’s true character in Jesus Christ! When we realize that God has been misunderstood and falsely blamed for the wrong in our world, our purpose in life changes completely. The world needs to know the truth about God! “God is not the kind of Person his enemies have made him out to be.”[5]

God’s tremendous respect for freedom can be awfully frustrating for us too. Who among us hasn’t longed for the ability to converse with God face to face? Sometimes it seems so difficult to discern his answer to prayer. Why does God’s presence seem so elusive at times? “For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust” (Psalm 103:14, NASB). God is very careful in dealing with us, so as not to overwhelm us. We can see the impact of meeting God by considering Isaiah’s response when he encountered the glory of God, “Woe is me, for I am undone” (Isaiah 6:5, KJV). God is so gentle with us because of his great respect for free will. His way is not to twist arms into doing his will. God could scare us out of our wits, and our response would be to do or say anything from fear of death; but such a response is of no value and has no moral content. God is faced with a quandary. If he approaches us, we may fear him—leading to a response based on fear, which is not what he wants. Yet he must approach us to communicate with us and to make known his character and will. How did God get around the dilemma? God veiled his glory in human flesh. In Christ we see God in a way that does not frighten us, so that his character and will may be plainly seen. In Christ, God can present his will to us in such a way that we can voluntarily respond.

In order to hold us in bondage, the enemy misrepresents God, making us believe he is one looking to punish any wrong move—ready to destroy. Unfortunately, this is a very common view of God, one that Christ himself faced from his disciples:

As the time drew near when Jesus would be taken up to heaven, he made up his mind and set out on his way to Jerusalem. He sent messengers ahead of him, who went into a village in Samaria to get everything ready for him. But the people there would not receive him, because it was clear that he was on his way to Jerusalem. When the disciples James and John saw this, they said, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” Jesus turned and rebuked them. Then Jesus and his disciples went on to another village. (Luke 9:51-56, GNB).

In this account, we see that Jesus Christ was urged to destroy those who would dare oppose him; but far from taking his disciples up on their suggestion, he revealed that this very impulse is contrary to God’s way. In other words, Jesus was saying, “You don’t know what God is like.” He went on to explain that God does not destroy; he saves. I love how this story ends: “And they went to another village.” This story speaks volumes about God’s character. When God is slighted, he is not violent with those who would dare cross him. He simply goes away.

In Jesus Christ we see a being who did nothing to harm others. The only time we see his indignation raised was to protect those who were being victimized. At every opportunity, Jesus warned against the use of force. Yet despite this central thread that runs throughout his teachings, many expected and desired for Jesus to use force to set up his kingdom. When we consider his remark, “The Kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21, GNB), it seems apparent that he would not be relying on force to set up his Kingdom. How could one use force to set up an internal kingdom?

Although Jesus said, “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father,” we often perceive Jesus to be much different than the Father. When we think of Jesus, what adjectives come to mind? Probably words such as compassionate, kind, loving, gentle, patient, forgiving, and generous. When thinking of God, however, it is more likely that we conjure up words such as holy, righteous, powerful, omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent. I recall hearing that Jesus Christ never referred to God as “Judge” but referred to him as “Father” well over a hundred times. Yet if one is asked to describe God, “Judge” is a more likely response than “Father.”

Think of Jesus Christ girding himself with a towel and washing the feet of his disciples. Can we imagine the president of the U.S., or some other head of state, performing a similar act? Is God possibly as humble as Jesus?

Think of Jesus Christ attending Lazarus’ funeral or at the procession to Jerusalem. Jesus wept. Does God weep? Is God possibly as tender-hearted as Jesus?

Think of Jesus Christ and the woman caught in adultery. “Neither do I condemn you.” Is God possibly as forgiving and kind as Jesus Christ?

The Good News is that God the Father is like Jesus Christ. When we have seen Jesus Christ, we have seen the Father. The truth about God’s character sets us free. This is the key to freedom, and freedom is the key to love.

[1].  Greg Boyd. Is God to Blame? (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003).

[2].  Noteworthy is that the apostle John relates Jesus’ washing of the disciples’ feet to a full awareness of his power. “Jesus knew that the Father had given him complete power; he knew that he had come from God and was going to God. So he rose from the table, took off his outer garment, and tied a towel around his waist” (John 13:3, 4, GNB, emphasis supplied).

[3].   An excerpt from E. Wiesel, Night (New York, NY: Hill & Wang, 1960).

[4].  Quote from The Work of the Chariot.

[5].  Quote attributed to Paul C. Heubach, former pastor of Loma Linda University Church of Seventh-day Adventists from 1965-1970.

CHAPTER FIVE

What the Early Christians Believed:

The Reality of Cosmic Conflict

SIGVE TONSTAD

I. The Christian Belief Under Attack

AROUND THE YEAR 175-177 IN THE Christian Era, during the reign of Marcus Aurelius, a new book hit the bookstores in the Roman World. Christians were at that time persecuted in many places. The book had nothing to do with persecution, but it had a lot to say about Christian beliefs. On the True Doctrine, it was titled—hardly the title of a bestseller.

But the book was remarkable for a number of reasons; first, that it was written at all. Why would a non-Christian author such as Celsus, a philosopher of some note, write a book on Christians and their beliefs? Part of the answer was certainly that Celsus did not like the teachings of believers in Jesus. But this was not the whole answer. Admitting that we know very little about Celsus, we can be sure that he disliked many areas that did not bother him enough to become the subject of a book.

The other element that helps explain Celsus’ book was the growing influence of Christianity. The new faith was impacting the Roman world; it could no longer be ignored; its influence was reaching all the way to the educated tier of the empire. Celsus’ book set for itself the task of countering the influence of the message about Jesus. In this sense, it was the first of its kind. It would not, as is well known, be the last.

Today, Celsus is thought to have been a philosopher in the Platonic tradition (428-348 BCE). When he attacked Christianity, he wrote as an educated person and spoke as one who had done his homework well. Indeed, his portrayal of the Christian message offers a rare opportunity to listen in on what Christians were actually saying in the latter half of the second century.

With respect to tone, Celsus was condescending, never missing an opportunity to spite Christians or to put down their beliefs. While this may be a feature of polemical literature of that period, Celsus excelled at it. We see it in the following example, where he directed his scorn at the belief that he found most objectionable.

Their utter stupidity [the Christians] can be illustrated in any number of ways, but especially with their misreading of the divine enigmas and their insistence that there exists a being opposed to God, whom they know by the name of devil (in Hebrew, Satanas, for they refer to one and the same being by various names).[1]

In Celsus’ eyes the Christians were not very bright, and the teaching that proved their stupidity better than anything else was the notion that “there exists a being opposed to God.” Having immersed himself in the preaching and teaching of the early Christian church, Celsus had discovered that Christians operated with a third category of being—a being that was neither God nor human.

We must not make the mistake of thinking that Celsus was irreligious. He believed in God. What he could not accept was the notion that there was a third party. He would not for a moment stoop to entertain that the third party in this representation was important, playing a role that in some respects exceeded that of human beings.

Christians in the early church saw the earth as the stage of a cosmic conflict that involved God, human beings, and Satan—a fallen angel. His fall happened before the fall of human beings. When Satan fell, he played a crucial role in breaking up the relationship between human beings and God. This story, the early Christians found in the Bible, and this was at the core of their belief. The second-century Christians who read Celsus’ book no doubt disagreed with his criticism, but they would not say that Celsus failed to state correctly what they believed in.

Celsus was mystified by Christians who departed from what he called the “divine enigmas”—the true mystery of God. Thinkers and philosophers have thought long and hard about God and his ways. The result of the hard work would go to waste for anyone who accepts the Christian teaching. In the eyes of the philosopher, the figure of Satan was unthinkable for what it said about God.

But they [the Christians] show how utterly concocted these ideas are when they go on to say that the highest god in heaven, desiring to do such and such—say, confer some great gift on man—cannot fulfil his purpose because he is opposed and thwarted by a god who is his opposite. Does this mean that the Son of God can be beaten by a devil?[2]

This statement is as clear as it gets in Celsus’ book. As noted already, he was writing as a believer in God, defending him against the defamation with which the Christian teaching sullied God’s standing. “But what is this,” we fairly hear him shout, “portraying God as though he has an opponent that limits him! What is this but a God who is a pushover and a weakling!” God, in Celsus’ view and in the view of the best philosophical tradition of the second century, should be a sovereign God. He should be the undisputed boss. God’s defining attribute is his power. There should be no other power within sight that challenges God.

It is blasphemy to say that when the greatest God indeed wishes to confer some benefit upon men, He has a power which is opposed to Him, and so is unable to do it.[3]

Unlike intellectuals in the twenty-first century, Celsus’ objection to the reality of Satan was not because he couldn’t believe in anything beyond the human sphere. His primary opposition to the Christian teaching was squarely because of what it said about God.

- A world-view that made room for Satan diminished God.

- The Christian teaching put at risk the notion of God’s sovereignty, the doctrine that was most sacred to Celsus.

The Christians of his day made God seem less than what he was or what he must be. Celsus felt duty bound to defend God’s honor. The reader today will find his outrage especially noticeable when he comments on Jesus.

But the Christian notion that the Son of God accepted the punishments inflicted upon him by a devil is merely ludicrous, especially if we are to think that this is to teach us to endure punishments quietly. In my view the Son of God had a right to punish the devil; he certainly had no reason to threaten with punishment the men he came to save, the very ones who had suffered so much from the devil’s abuse.[4]

The power relation between Jesus and Satan was turned on its head in the Christian message. Jesus, who should be strong if he was to do any good at all, seemed the weaker party. To Celsus’ mind, this meant that there could not be any connection between Jesus and God. No God who took his dignity seriously would consent to being treated abusively and kicked around the way that Jesus was. If Jesus were truly representing God, as the Christians claimed, he would have put the devil in his place. He would have done so by force, and the greater the force, the better. In Celsus’ mind with regard to the Christian teaching of that day, logic and decency were violated, because the evil one was allowed to inflict suffering on the good, and the good and the strong (whether God or Jesus) allowed the evil one to get away with it.

It just did not make sense by the norms of the day. Who could respect anyone who allowed himself to be treated this way? Who in their right mind would even want a God like that?

It is mere impiousness, therefore, to suggest that the things that were done to Jesus were done to God. Certain things are simply as a matter of logic impossible to God, namely those things which violate the consistency of his nature: God cannot do less than what it befits God to do, what it is God’s nature to do. Even if the prophets had foretold such things about the Son of God, it would have been necessary to say, according to the axiom I have cited, that the prophets were wrong, rather than to believe that God has suffered and died.[5]

Celsus’ fully developed conception of what God must be like ruled out the Christian view. What believers in Jesus said took God to such a low level that the Christian God was good for nothing. “God cannot do less than what it befits God to do, what it is God’s nature to do,” Celsus exclaimed. If the prophets of the Old Testament predicted otherwise, they were not telling the truth, and we should not believe them.

It cannot be clearer than this. Non-Christian thinkers in the second century had found their voice. The basic principle of good theology, in the eyes of Celsus, was to project the power of God and his sovereignty. There should be no “ifs, ands, or buts.” The Christian belief painted God as a Being that no sane person could respect. What the writers of the New Testament praise as good news, never tiring of this term, is news that made Celsus cringe in utter revulsion. He dismissed Christianity because he considered it an insult to God.

II. Explaining and Defending the Christian Belief

1. The Christians and the Being That Is Opposed to God

Sadly, the complete text of Celsus’ book has been lost. We owe the quotes I have given above to the service of another author. Some seventy years after Celsus’ book, probably around 244 CE, a leading Christian thinker was prevailed upon to write a rebuttal. The author of the Christian reply was Origen of Alexandria (185-254 CE), and the title of the book was short and to the point: Against Celsus. If we were to venture a guess as to why Origen wrote his book, the answer would be a mirror image of Celsus’ motivation. Origen believed that Celsus’ attack on the Christian message was unjustified. He could have left it at that, saying nothing. The fact that he wrote a lengthy book, discussing Celsus’ arguments point by point, should be taken to mean that Celsus’ book was having an impact against the influence of Christianity.

Origen is remembered as one of the most devout and learned men in the history of the Christian church. Today he is known somewhat in the Roman Catholic Church, hardly remembered at all in the Protestant world, but he remains the most influential theologian in the Eastern Church. Origen is also one of the most prolific authors known; and, as one historian has said, he “is one of those figures, none too common even in Church history, of whose character we can say that we know nothing but what is good.”[6]

Origen does a great service to Celsus because he quotes the work of the deceased philosopher before answering him. We know what Celsus was saying, thanks to Origen’s faithful rendition, and we also learn how to engage people with whom we disagree. Origen disagreed with Celsus, yet he allowed Celsus to speak in his own voice before he answered him. The style of Origen’s work is simple and matter-of-fact—“a work without pretension”—it has been said, “where style counts for nothing, thought for everything.”[7]

Two points need to be emphasized concerning Origen’s book. First, Origen said that Celsus misunderstood the Christian teaching, but he did not say that Celsus had misrepresented what the Christian teaching was. For instance, when Celsus attacked the Christian belief in Satan, Origen did not claim that Christians then did not embrace this belief. He firmly believed that Celsus was misguided, but he did not try to get the Christians off the hook by walking away from the belief that was being attacked.

Second and equally important, the Christian belief in Satan was not invented by Origen in the third century CE. The Christian view of reality was anchored in the New Testament. Those who ascribe the Christian view of Satan to Origen have their facts wrong and their timing off by almost a century. When Celsus attacked Christians for believing in the reality of Satan, a being that is opposed to God, he could not attack a doctrine that had been invented by Origen because Origen had not yet been born.

But Origen certainly affirmed the cosmic conflict perspective that riled Celsus, and he explained it in conspicuous detail.

The name Devil, and Satan, and Wicked one, is mentioned in many places of scripture, and he who bears it is also described as being the enemy of God.[8]

We find this message everywhere in Origen’s books; in fact, so much so that Origen has been called the greatest diabolist in the history of the Christian church. The theme of cosmic conflict constitutes the framework for his understanding of God, and it bears on the most puzzling elements in God’s story. Origen never lets his readers forget it.

He who was Lucifer and who arose in heaven, he who was without sin from the day of his birth and who was among the cherubim, was able to fall with respect to the kindness of the Son of God before he could be bound by chains of love.[9]

This comment on Romans 6:8-10 cannot be explained on the basis of a specific clue within this particular text. Origen, however, never strayed far from the cosmic conflict context, within which the message of the Bible belongs. In this particular comment, Origen managed to highlight the most important points in Lucifer’s “biography”: He “was Lucifer,” the splendid “Son of the Morning” (Isaiah 14:12). He “arose in heaven.” He was “without sin from the day of his birth” (Ezekiel 28:15). He “was among the cherubim” (Ezekiel 28:14). And yet, despite his exalted origin and high standing, something went wrong. Lucifer “was able to fall with respect to the kindness of the Son of God before he could be bound by the chains of love.”

Origen has here touched on the essential and “hard” facts of Lucifer’s story, as well as on the softer and more subtle side that may not be apparent to readers unfamiliar with Origen. Lucifer was not “bound by the chains of love,” a strange expression to be sure, because “chains of love” represent a bond that arises from within—a counterpoint and contrast to other kinds of chains, such as the chains of obligation, coercion, and force applied from without. To be bound by “the chains of love” means to be bound in freedom.

Origen was not in the slightest shaken by the ridicule Celsus heaped on the Christian cosmic conflict story. Christians in the third century, like the Christians in the first and the second centuries, believed in “a being who is opposed to God.” Origen defended the belief. He pointed to its source in the Bible. He pursued its explanatory power, pressing the point home. And he took on Celsus for the flaws in his view of God and human reality.

2. The Source of the Christian Belief

The source of the Christian belief, of course, is the Bible—the Old Testament as well as the New. Critics who say that the Old Testament does not say much about Satan will hear a different story from Origen. Indeed, the notion that the Old Testament has little to say about Satan is also a notion that, to a large extent, applies to the role of Jesus in the Old Testament. A number of texts that are harnessed in the New Testament as prophecies pointing to Jesus, were not, in their original context, fully recognized as Messianic.[10] In light of the life of Jesus, these texts have found the referent that alone does justice to their meaning.

The role of Satan in the Old Testament is similar, not in the sense that the Old Testament predicts the coming of Satan, but in this sense: Texts in the Old Testament that on the surface refer to a human power or king, such as “the king of Babylon” in Isaiah (Isaiah 14:12) or “the prince of Tyre” in Ezekiel (Ezekiel 28:12), have a meaning that looks beyond the human factor. A larger figure is projected on the screen, a figure that does not have a human referent only. This insight is basic to the Christian interpretation of the Old Testament, and Origen defended it vigorously. His discussion of the text describing “the prince of Tyre” in Ezekiel 28:12-19 is a case in point.

Who is there that, hearing such sayings as this, “Thou wast a signet of likeness and a crown of honour in the delights of the paradise of God”, or this, “from the time thou wast created with the cherubim, I placed thee in the holy mount of God,” could possibly weaken their meaning to such an extent as to suppose them spoken of a human being, even a saint, not to mention the prince of Tyre? Or what “fiery stones” can he think of, “in the midst” of which any man could have lived? Or who could be regarded as “stainless” from the very “day he was created,” and yet at some later time could have acts of unrighteousness found in him and be said to be “cast forth into the earth”? This certainly indicated that the prophecy is spoken of one who, not being in the earth, was “cast forth into the earth,” whose “holy places” also are said to be “polluted.”[11]

The Christian interpretation is only taking stock of what is there. Perfection of the kind envisioned in Ezekiel is not found in the human realm, especially when the one who fell originally was counted among the cherubim. Indeed, to suggest that a historical “prince of Tyre” at some point was “the signet of perfection” (Ezekiel 28:12, ESV) is to miss the mark entirely. Ezekiel, Origen contends, is concerned about a figure that surpasses anything found on the human horizon.

Isaiah’s description of “the king of Babylon” (Isaiah 14:12-20) is deployed and defended along similar lines.

Again, we are taught by the prophet Isaiah the following facts about another opposing power. He says: “How hast Lucifer, who arose in the morning, fallen from heaven. He who assailed the nations is broken and dashed to the earth. Thou saidst indeed in thy heart, I will ascend into heaven; above the stars of heaven I will place my throne, I will sit upon lofty mountains which are toward the north, I will ascend above the clouds; I will be like the Most High. But now shalt thou be cast down to the lower world, and to the foundations of the earth. All who see thee shall be amazed over thee and say: This is the man that affected the whole earth, that moved kings, that made the whole round a desert, that destroyed cities and did not loose those who were in chains.”[12]

As with the passage concerning “the prince of Tyre” in Ezekiel, no person or power in the human realm has feet large enough to fit the shoes of Isaiah’s remarkable poem. The notion that the Bible has texts that contain a “surplus of meaning” must in this connection not be taken to mean that the alleged “surplus” is imported to the text by the reader.[13] If there is a “surplus of meaning” in Isaiah’s poem, it has to do with an opposing power that has an angelic or demonic referent. This “surplus,” however, is not something that is added to the basic meaning or that is imported to the text by restless and imaginative readers. The text itself has this “surplus” put there by the author. He or she aspired to describe evil in ultimate and definitive terms, knowing that a human account is inadequate. On this point, at least, Henri Crouzel’s depiction of Origen seems well taken; Origen “possesses to a unique degree the gift of the exegete, analogous to that of the inspired author; he knows how to listen to God.”[14]

Origen, following the precedent of the New Testament, argued that Isaiah’s poem tells the story of the power that is opposed to God.

It is most clearly proved by these words that he who formerly was Lucifer and who “arose in the morning” has fallen from heaven. For if, as some suppose, he was a being of darkness, why is he said to have formerly been Lucifer or light-bearer? Or how could he “rise in the morning,” who had in him no light at all? Moreover the Saviour teaches us about the devil as follows: “Lo, I see Satan fallen as lightning from heaven.” So he was light once.[15]

The foregoing are only a few smatterings of the way Origen mined the Bible for the account of the demonic. In his answer to Celsus, long deceased, and to potential readers in his own time and beyond, the biblical basis for this teaching was and is above question. Origen was soft-spoken and humble on behalf of his own effort, but he did not harbor the slightest doubt that the Bible tells the story of a cosmic conflict or that it traces footprints of evil back to a nonhuman point of origin.

However, although we have boldly and rashly committed these few remarks to writing in this book, perhaps we have said nothing significant. But if anyone with the time to examine the holy scriptures were to collect texts from all the sources and were to give a coherent account of evil, both how it first came to exist and how it is being destroyed, he would see that the meaning of Moses and the prophets with regard to Satan has not even been dreamt of by Celsus or by any of the people who are dragged down by this wicked daemon and are drawn away in their soul from God and the right conception of Him and from His Word.[16]

3. God in the Christian Belief

The biblical account, as explained and defended by Origen, does not deal with Satan for his own sake. What makes Satan such an important figure is that he is the one who initially distorted the truth about God and who continues to do so. This subject is the all-important one. Origen not only maintained an unremitting focus on how Satan has misrepresented God, but he also expressed the thrust of the satanic activity in ways that are difficult to surpass. His statement on the scriptural basis for the role Christians attribute to Satan, quoted above, goes to the heart of the problem. People “are dragged down by this wicked daemon and are drawn away in their soul from God and the right conception of Him and from His Word.”[17]

We cannot afford to miss this point. If we were assigned the task of summarizing the story of the temptation and fall in the Garden of Eden, we could not state it more succinctly than Origen did nearly 1,800 years ago. The serpent began by misrepresenting God, distorting God’s warning into a command of severity and restriction (Genesis 3:1). Next, the serpent directly attacked God’s credibility, alleging that God knowingly was not telling the truth (Genesis 3:4, 5). The seed of misrepresentation sprouted the plant of distrust, and the plant of distrust matured into conscious alienation (Genesis 3:6). Alienation yielded the terrifying fruit of fear, now manifested in the relationship between God and human beings and expressed in the most grief-stricken sentence in the Bible: “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself” (Genesis 3:10).

All of this is captured in Origen’s succinct summary—it is Satan’s goal to entice human beings to misread God and to draw them away from “the right conception of Him.”[18] Thus, the problem facing the human family—and the core issue in cosmic conflict theology—centers on the character of God.

As Celsus well knew, the pagan world also had myths of cosmic combat and opposition to God. However, wrote Celsus:

These myths are not like the [Christian] tales which tell of a devil who is a daemon, or (and here they are nearer the truth) which speak of a man who is a sorcerer and proclaims opposing opinions.[19]

What, as Celsus heard it, were the Christians saying about Satan? They were talking about a figure who “proclaims opposing opinions.”[20] People are deceived on the strength of these opinions. Recalling again the story in the Garden of Eden, the false opinions that Satan is promoting are opinions about God. As noted already, Celsus had no respect for a God who allowed a being that was opposed to him to exist or who let anyone get away with expressing opposing opinions. He understood what the Christians were saying: It all boiled down to a different view of God. The God Celsus believed in must be an undisputed sovereign who would not allow anything or anybody to stand in his way. Divine sovereignty was, in his system, the most important and sacred doctrine.

What, we might therefore ask, is the most important doctrine in Christianity? If it is not divine sovereignty, what is it? How does Origen defend the Christian teaching on this point?

4. Evil and Freedom

Celsus could not understand the God of the Christians, because he neither understood nor valued freedom. His vision of God was an imperial vision. If we imagine Celsus thinking of God in political terms, God was the divine emperor, and Celsus was a subject who had no say with respect to what the emperor was doing. Indeed, he might even be the subject who wanted no say, so as not to infringe on God’s undisputed supremacy. This is one reason why it was impossible for him to make sense of Jesus and the apparent power gap between Jesus and Satan; “the Christian notion that the Son of God accepted the punishments inflicted upon him by a devil is merely ludicrous.”[21]

The very ideas that were a stumbling stone to Celsus are to Origen the cornerstone. Crouzel calls Origen “the supreme theologian of free will.”[22] René Cadiou writes that for Origen, “liberty became the most general of all the laws of the universe.”[23] Evil arose in the context of freedom; there could not be evil in the absence of freedom. And yet freedom only provides the opportunity and is not the cause of evil. Freedom is the value that God will not surrender even in the face of sin.

For freedom of will shall always remain in rational natures. It was possible even for him who was Lucifer, owing to the splendor of his glory, and who rose in the morning because of the light of knowledge, to be changed from his own glory and become darkness because of the evil which he received. And to him who was without stain from the day of his birth and dwelled with the cherubim and lived in the midst of fiery stones and was clothed with the entire adornment of the virtues in the paradise of God, there was no tree of virtues which could compare. But later, iniquities were found in him and he was cast from heaven to earth.[24]

Unlike the God envisioned by Celsus, the God who is revealed in Jesus is a God who values freedom so highly that he allows precisely the things that Celsus declared to be logically impossible and untrue, even if the prophets foretold it.

We certainly do not deny that free will always will remain in rational natures, but we affirm that the power of the cross of Christ and of his death which he undertook at the end of the ages is so great that it suffices for the healing and restoration not only of the present and the future but also of past ages. It suffices not only for our human order, but also for the heavenly powers and orders. For according to the Apostle Paul’s own pronouncement: Christ has made peace “through the blood of his cross” not only with “the things on earth” but also with “the things in heaven.’”[25]

The sweep of the vision is as staggering as the cost. In Celsus’ outlook, freedom was not understood, while in the early Christian account, freedom is seamlessly tied to the character of God. God has, as it were, taken upon himself to pay the price for freedom rather than to solve the problem of sin by abolishing freedom. The power of the Cross suffices not only to heal the human plight, but it also reaches to heavenly powers and orders. This may sound strange to us today, but it was not strange to Origen, because to him and to the early church, the power that was opposed to God was above all a nonhuman power.

5. Salvation As Healing

Cosmic conflict theology describes salvation as healing. We cannot fail to notice Origen’s emphasis on this point. Jesus’ death on the cross is the healing remedy that dwarfs all others, because it shows God to be a giving person (John 12:23-32), making null and void the misrepresentation that “the prince of this world” has been promoting. The effect of the Cross is so great that “it suffices for the healing and restoration not only of the present and the future but also of past ages,” and, as noted above, its influence also extends to the nonhuman realm. Far more than I can show here, Origen saw in the teachings of the Bible a message of healing. He understood salvation in medical more than in legal terms. He was concerned to show how the life and death of Jesus heals human misperception of God.

Coercion, the method that Celsus was more than eager to see God deploy, was anathema to Origen. Not only is coercion incompatible with freedom, but if used, it will also compound rather than solve the problem of evil. In God’s wisdom, God allows good and evil to develop and to run their respective courses until each side has declared itself. “It was necessary for God,” says Origen, “who knows how to use for a needful end even the consequences of evil, to put those who became evil in this way in a particular part of the universe, and to make a school of virtue to be set up for those who wished to strive lawfully in order to obtain it.”[26] God’s remedy is not compulsion but revelation; it is persuasion, not force.

In fact, in a move that will offend many Christian believers today, Origen repudiated the doctrine of eternal punishment as a doctrine that contradicts the most basic values in the biblical story. A person may be lost and forego the healing he or she is offered by God, but God will not execute that person or torture him or her eternally. To Origen, Scripture indicates “that every sinner kindles for himself the flame of his own fire, and is not plunged into a fire which has been previously kindled by someone else or which existed before him.”[27]

III. The Explanatory Power of the Christian Belief

1. Philosophy Against Story

In his argument against the Christian view of reality and the message of Jesus, Celsus was confident that he had an insurmountable edge because he was a philosopher. Early in his attack, he thus created the expectation that he would provide a more persuasive account of evil than what the Christians of his day believed. After throwing his final punches at the Christian view, he was ready to set forth an explanation that he claimed was vastly superior.

I turn now to consider the existence of evil, which is analogous to matter itself in that there can be no decrease or increase of evils in the world—neither in the past nor in the future. From the beginning of time, the beginning of the universe, there has been just so much evil, and in quantity it has remained the same. It is in the nature of the universe that this be the case, and depends on our understanding of the origins of the universe itself. Certainly someone who has no learning in philosophy will be unaware of the origin of evil; but it is enough that the masses be told that evils are not caused by God; rather, that they are part of the nature of matter and of mankind; that the period of mortal life is the same from beginning to end, and that because all things happen in cycles, what is happening now—evils that is—happened before and will happen again.[28]

What is this? Certainly, it is hard to read, but that is so mostly because it is rambling and incoherent. “It is not easy for one who has not read philosophy to know what is the origin of evils,” Celsus said condescendingly.[29] The masses should not be expected to understand; for them it was enough “to be told that evils are not caused by God.”[30] He added that the masses might also be told that evils are “in matter and dwell among mortals.”[31]

But Celsus appeared unconvinced by his own argument. He certainly failed to deliver on the expectation that the philosopher would give an answer that put the Christian account to shame. Quite unexpectedly, all he could offer was a fatalistic and pessimistic outlook, asserting that “according to the determined cycles the same things always have happened, are now happening, and will happen.”[32] To him, evil had no beginning and no end—it had always existed in the same amount and would always persist. But if “evil” was a necessity, and if human beings were trapped in a cycle that no one could escape, the concept of evil had no meaning. This was the best the philosopher could do; this was his answer.

Origen was not impressed, but he was more humble. Having read philosophy himself, he stated modestly that “it is not easy even for one who has read philosophy to know the origin of evils, and probably it is impossible even for these men to know it absolutely, unless by inspiration of God it is made clear what are evils, and shown how they came to exist, and understood how they will be removed.”[33]

The great difference in content between the convictions of Celsus and Origen are matched by their very different character. Celsus argued on the basis of philosophy. His account fell back on constructing a story that might or might not explain evil or offer hope that evil one day would cease to exist. Origen, on the contrary, relied on a received story. The logic that underlies his account is the logic of narrative. If we ask why a certain story goes one way and not another, the answer is that we can only tell the story this way because this is what happened. In light of the Bible, the source that informs and obligates Origen’s account, the story that is told has a triangular shape, involving God, human beings, and a third order of being. While the story gives rise to many questions, it provides the framework for the questions that need to be raised. This, too, was a thought that was alien to Celsus.

Origen admits that he tells a story that he knows “by inspiration of God”; that the Bible makes clear “what are evils”; and that the Bible tells how evils “came to exist,” and “how they will be removed.”[34] In this account, evil has a beginning, and it will one day end. Celsus, who began his criticism by promising a better explanation, ended it by claiming that there was nothing to explain. What sustains Origen, however, is not that he has defeated Celsus on the battlefield of logic. Rather, it is that he is fortified by the story that has been disclosed to him and to the Christian community by special revelation, corroborated by a cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1).

2. The Christian Story Today

As I mentioned at the beginning, Origen is not well known in large circles of the Christian church. His account of evil has fallen on hard times. Eric Osborn writes that with the conversion of Constantine in the fourth century, “theodicy gave way to triumphalism.”[35] This means that the church felt less need to tell the biblical story of the origin of evil, because it was in a position to command belief. It no longer had to engage the world from a position of weakness. In the days of Origen, Christianity was a persecuted minority. Origen had recourse only to persuasion. After the conversion of Constantine, the church could resort to coercion when persuasion came up short.

Osborn describes this transformation as a process of contraction. The field of vision narrowed from the big story of the rebellion of Satan to the smaller story of personal salvation and to doctrines such as the trinity and the nature of Christ.[36] I have elsewhere characterized this as a “more detailed picture within a much smaller frame.”[37]

I write this under the conviction that the time has come to return to the larger story—the one espoused by the New Testament and by believers such as Origen. In his answer to Celsus, Origen said that “[n]o one will be able to know the origin of evils who has not grasped the truth about the so-called devil and his angels, and who he was before he became a devil, and how he became a devil, and what caused his so-called angels to rebel with him.”[38] This belief was my personal one before I came across Origen, but his in-depth exposition of the subject has significantly strengthened and deepened my conviction.

If we relearn the larger story, we will not simply find the foot that fits the shoe that has left the devastating footprints of evil in human history. We may also be able to engage more meaningfully the contemporary person to whom the existence of evil is an obstacle to faith, as are misconceptions of the God who permitted it to happen.[39]

[1].  Celsus on the True Doctrine: A Discourse Against the Christians, trans. R. Joseph Hoffmann (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 1987), 98, 99.

[2].  Ibid., 99.

[3].  Contra Celsum 6.42. The reference here is to the translation by Henry Chadwick (Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press, 1965).

[4].  Celsus on the True Doctrine, 100.

[5].  Ibid.

[6].    G. W. Butterworth, Origen on First Principles (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1936), v.

[7].  Henri Crouzel, Origen, trans. A. S. Worrall (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1989), 57.

[8].  First Principles, 1.5.2.

[9].  ComRom 5.10.16, books 1-5, 5.10.16; trans. Thomas P. Scheck; The Fathers of the Church, vol. 103 (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2001), 377.

[10].  A case in point is Psalm 110:1-5, one of the texts quoted most frequently in the New Testament. Cf. Matthew 22:42-45; Mark 12:35-37; Acts 2:34; 1 Corinthians 15:25; Ephesians 1:20-22; Hebrews 10:12, 13.

[11].  First Principles I.5.4; cf. Contra Celsum 6.43; 6.44; Homélies sur Ézékiel, trans. Marcel Borret (Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf, 1989), 411-413.

[12].  First Principles I.5.5; cf. Contra Celsum 6.43.

[13].  Cf. Paul Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (Fort Worth, TX: Texas Christian University Press, 1976).

[14].  Crouzel, Origen, 28. Adolf von Harnack’s verdict (Der kirchengeschichtliche Ertrag der exegetischen Arbeiten des Origenes, part 2 [Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs’sche Buchhandlung, 1919], 4), based on a thorough and critical reading of all the available works of Origen, is worth noting: “There has never been a theologian in the Church that so wholeheartedly was and wanted to be an exegete of the Bible as Origen” (translation mine).

[15].  First Principles I.5.5; cf. Contra Celsum 6.43.

[16].  Contra Celsum 6.44.

[17].  Ibid.

[18].  Ibid.

[19].  Contra Celsum 6.42.

[20].  Ibid.

[21].  Celsus on the True Doctrine, 100.

[22].  Crouzel, Origen, 21.

[23].  Rene Cadiou. Introduction au système d’Origène (Paris: Société d’édition “Les Belles Lettres,” 1932), quoted in Danielou, Origen, 205, 206.

[24].  ComRom 5.10.16, books 1-5, 5.10.16; trans. Thomas P. Scheck; The Fathers of the Church, vol. 103 (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2001), 377.

[25].  ComRom 5.10.16, books 1-5, 5.10.16; trans. Thomas P. Scheck; The Fathers of the Church, vol. 103 (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2001), 377.

[26].  Contra Celsum 6.44.

[27].    First Principles 2.20.4.

[28].  Celsus on the True Doctrine, 100.

[29].  Contra Celsum 4.65.

[30].  Ibid.

[31].  Ibid.

[32].  Ibid.

[33].  Ibid.

[34].  Ibid.

[35].  Eric Osborn, “The Apologist Origen and the Fourth Century: From Theodicy to Christology,” in Origeniana Septima, 58.

[36].  Osborn, “From Theodicy to Christology,” 58.

[37].  Tonstad, “Theodicy and the Theme of Cosmic Conflict,” 192.

[38].  Contra Celsum 4.65.

[39].  Tonstad, “Theodicy and the Theme of Cosmic Conflict,” 202.

CHAPTER SIX

Why Is the Story of the Cosmic Conflict Important?

MARK MERIZAN

“Mariam: I’m afraid.

Esther: No cause. The world is more than we know.”

—1959 The movie, Ben Hur

THE WORLD MAY BE MORE THAN WE KNOW. But what we know of the world can often be more than enough for us to echo Mariam’s sentiments, “I am afraid.” The world can be a nasty place.

For those like me with the “genetic defect” that requires that they look up from their immediate surroundings and ask questions, it can often seem that there is little purpose or direction to what happens in our world. In the movie Lady Hawk, there is a somewhat humorous but poignant conversation between the character “Phillip the Mouse” and God. Phillip, who has just escaped execution by crawling through the sewer, tells God: “I would like to think that there was some higher meaning in all of this. Of course, if there isn’t, I won’t hold it against you. But I would be very disappointed.” So would I!

As a friend once said, “If there is any meaning to the world, then there had better be a good reason for all the suffering.” He is right. The suffering in this world is awful. There had better be a good reason for letting it happen.

In the search for meaning in the “world,” we are privileged to have a window into the larger issues behind what is going on in the world around us and into the deeper issues behind them—the life and teachings of Jesus, who came to “show us the Father.” The revelation of Jesus provides a set of “corrective lenses”—like those used to allow the Hubble space telescope to focus on distant galaxies—that offer insight into some of the deepest questions it is possible to ask: “Why was evil allowed?” and “How is God dealing with it?” These profound issues revolve around the very thing that Jesus came to do—to make God manifest both to humanity and to the entire onlooking universe. We will be using these “Jesus glasses” throughout this book as we consider all these questions that ultimately revolve around this one central theme: “What is God like?” We will always compare all evidence and all answers with what Jesus showed us about his Father, the God of the Universe.

It’s a Wonderful World—Kind of

Life on Earth is full of strange beauty in unexpected places—from the delicate symmetry of a snowflake under a magnifying glass on a winter day, to the grandeur of a spiral galaxy in a telescope on a starry night; from the magical flight of a hummingbird on nearly invisible wings, to the slow grandeur of a whale leaping for joy. In all of this, we can see a mysterious principle at work. No parent can be unmoved by the first cry of his or her child and the overwhelming knowledge that two people coming together in love created this new life. Nothing is more affirming or humbling than realizing that we all play a part in whatever this great dance is about.

But is there any meaning behind our strange and wonderful world? Or are we just a random collection of atoms in an accidental shape?

For some, the very existence of such a cosmos might be enough to convince them that there is an Artist behind the surprising beauty of our world, our universe. Others might argue that the most compelling evidence that there is more to the world than we can see is the fact that we have minds that can wonder at the beauty and be in awe of the mystery of our world and life. That such a world should exist is a miracle beyond comprehension. That we should be able to perceive it, to feel the joy of creativity and the awe of beauty, is a second miracle that, on top of the first one, defies explanation. We need not feel embarrassed if, in the whisper of the beauty surrounding us, we hear a voice from outside our world. Around and within us, we have sufficient evidence to choose whether we believe we live in a random and careless universe or in a world that is intimately connected to a greater world of beauty and benevolence.

If this is true, why would anyone choose not to connect their life to that greater realm of meaning and beauty? Why would anyone prefer a world of senseless randomness?  Is such a choice simply the perversity of human nature?

Pollyanna

On the other hand, that’s only half the picture. If we are honest, we have to admit that there is another side to our world that we cannot ignore just because it does not fit our dream. Much senseless pain and suffering exists. Much that is beautiful is wantonly destroyed. The joy of a newborn child comes only after the pain of childbirth; and there follows the heartache of seeing our beautiful creation buffeted, damaged, and all too often lost to a cruel and careless world.

We could create a long and depressing litany of the things that speak against our living in a benevolent world, starting with the survival of the strong and powerful at the expense of the weak and ending with the ravages of old age. And while it is true that the most convincing evidence for something beyond our world can be found in the existence of the human mind, at the same time the most undeniable evidence that we do not live in a benevolent world also comes from within ourselves. For example, man’s inhumanity to man is at the heart of what is wrong in our world, from those who exploit or neglect children for financial or political gain, to the mass destruction of an entire people for land, money, or revenge. Nor should we pretend that it is only them. Scratch the varnish of civilization off any one of us, and you will find a beast that is capable of the genocide of Rwanda or the savagery of Wounded Knee. Is it conceivable that an honest, thinking person could look at such things and conclude that we “live in the best of all possible worlds?”[1]

Paradox

The evidence is contradictory. The existence of our ability to wonder at the mystery suggests that there is more to the world than what we can see. But our sensibilities rub our collective noses in the fact that we live in an uncaring, harsh, brutal, dangerous world. So we have a paradox. Beauty and tenderness speak to the possibility of a benevolent Artist, while the existence of suffering and cruelty mocks our dream.

How do we resolve this contradictory evidence? If there is a benevolent and powerful God, why would he allow these conditions to exist? Someone once called this, “The only question worth asking.”  Should we decide that there is no resolution and simply ignore the problem? Must we despair of ever finding an answer?

In theology and philosophy, this paradox is known as the “theodicy” problem: “Is God responsible for evil?” or “How is it that God is not responsible for evil?” Volumes have been written about this without much noticeable progress. When tragedies such as the attack of 9/11 strike, the airwaves are full of questions: “How could God allow this?” A satisfactory answer is rarely provided, and people are left wondering, “Why?” To many of us, the question of “Why?” can be answered only by understanding that we are part of a much larger cosmic conflict.

The Story

In a previous chapter, we were introduced to the idea that the Bible describes a great battle—a “cosmic conflict,” a literal “war in heaven” (Revelation 12:7-11). On one side is God and those of his children who remained loyal to him. On the other is Lucifer, one of his most brilliant and powerful creatures. We have seen that Lucifer set himself against the Most High, God, the Creator and Ruler of the universe. Lucifer (the light bearer) became Satan (the adversary) and set in motion the necessity of a fundamental decision by every intelligent creature—stay loyal to God, or join the rebellion.  If this is true, it has to be one of the most important stories of all time, since it provides the context for addressing the question of why an all-powerful and loving God would allow evil, suffering, and pain in this world.

The cosmic conflict story gives us the context for understanding our condition here and now, as well as helping us to understand God’s actions in the past. It provides us with hope as we realize that we live in a time in human history—the time after the Cross—when the main battle has already been won. The cosmic conflict story leads us to discover our part in the story and helps us know what we can do to right the wrongs in our world and within ourselves. This story opens our eyes to the purpose of our existence and to the reality of why our world is the way it is. As we begin to understand fully the story, we are encouraged to share with others the news that there is something we can do about our condition on Planet Earth. Help is, in fact, on the way—and has been for a long time. Is that too much to ask of a story? Let us see.

The Real World

Yet this story of the cosmic war is not merely for the theologians as they struggle to answer the theodicy question. If the cosmic war is relevant, then it must be relevant to the problems that face humanity today. Our beliefs must change the way we live if they are to be of any significance.

As this is being written, the world faces the very real possibility of a millennial financial meltdown. The most powerful nation on earth is bogged down in two controversial wars in far-off countries. The world struggles with poverty, oppression, disease, hunger—in other words, things are pretty much as they have always been in our world—only more so.

In short, things in our world are a mess! If the cosmic conflict story could help us put our current situation into the context of the deeper problem, if it could give us hope of addressing our current dilemmas and establishing hope for the future, for finding meaning in our existence, then that story would be of supreme importance. My strong conviction is that the cosmic conflict story is the only one that provides the proper framework for both understanding our world and for enacting change that can really make a difference.

The Power of Stories

But do stories have such power? Is any example available of a story that changed the world? Yes. The story of the dying and rising “son of the gods,” as he was called by the Roman centurion in charge of his execution, who taught about a kingdom of peace and brotherhood—his story brought down the only superpower of that age. It framed the development of all subsequent society—government, religion, language, economics—virtually every facet of our lives today. Those who survived his death and witnessed his resurrection went forward with a power that was not from the eloquence of their speech, the clarity of their theology, the keenness of their intellect, their wealth, or their strength of arms. Instead, they simply went out and told the story. The results took care of themselves and led directly to the world in which we live today. Such is the influence of a single story.

How is it that a story has such power? How can the telling of a tale change the world? The meaning in our lives, the essence of who we are in our heart of hearts, is found in the stories that we tell ourselves. Unconsciously, in the quiet of our souls, the script that we write for how we live controls who we are and what we become. The meaning, that sense of identity, that pattern of who we are and how we see ourselves is so powerful that we will sacrifice our lives or those of our loved ones, march into the guns, or throw away our most prized possessions, rather than violate the meaning of our being. Without meaning, we die, or at least sink back into the semiconscious state of the animal world. The essence of our humanity is that there is meaning to our lives. This meaning is built in subtle ways by the stories in which we live. If we believe that our story is written to achieve greatness, we will struggle with all our might to make that a reality, regardless of the obstacles we may find in our way. If we believe that our story leads to failure, defeat, and irrelevance, we will find a way to make that the reality of our lives, regardless of the opportunities and talents we are given. Our stories are important. That is why we should be very careful of the stories we tell ourselves. A part of us believes them—no matter how outlandish they may seem.

Eat, Drink, and Be Merry

In this context, the story of the cosmic war emerges as supremely relevant to our everyday lives and to the problems of the world around us. It is not difficult to see the connection between believing we are children of chaos, living without meaning in a careless and hostile world, and the resulting callous treatment of our fellow human beings and ourselves. After all, what difference does it make? If I live well and do good, it will make no lasting difference—it will not be remembered or ultimately matter one iota when the universe dies in a whimper. “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die” is as good a motto as any for those living in such a story.

At least in this chaotic story, the universe is more or less neutral. It may be careless, but it is not hostile. And if one is foolish enough to ask the obvious questions about why things are so messed up, our eat-drink-and-be-merry story offers a straightforward answer—“Things are messed up because the universe is chaotic. Be thankful there is any order at all, and enjoy it while you can.” Yet, in truth, that is the story of many in this world. But any story is better than that.

Well, almost.

Better Watch Out

Much of religion is based on a very different story—a story in which the universe is filled with order and purpose. But all too often, it is an order and purpose that is, if not actively hostile, more than a little schizophrenic. “God is love” is taught in one breath, while in the next breath comes the description of God’s punishments if you disobey him in the smallest detail or, worse yet, reject his love. What kind of a story is this, anyway? In some respects, it is as chaotic as the “eat, drink, and be merry” story. The rules we are expected to obey often make little sense. And the punishments, which range from a horrible death to undying eternal torment, depending on which edition of the story you are told, seem completely out of balance with the severity of the crime.

Again, it is not hard to connect such a story to the joylessness and fear in which many who subscribe to such religion often live their lives. In this story it is definitely not acceptable to get anything wrong, to misunderstand the rules, or to slip up in one’s performance. In this better-watch-out story, Santa Claus is always coming to town to find out who’s been naughty and who’s been nice. If one were to ask someone who believed this story, “Why is the world so messed up?” the answer might be something like: “Because we have disobeyed and are receiving the just punishment of God’s displeasure.”

If we accept this story as our own, we live our lives in the context of paranoia and fear lest we intentionally or unintentionally slip up and incur God’s wrath. In fact, it is probable that many who have chosen the eat-drink-and-be-merry story have done so out of rebellion against this dark, sinister view of God and the universe in which he forced us to live. Better that there be no God and no meaning to life than that the meaning should be to suffer under the dictatorship of an arbitrary and harsh Dark Lord. Of course, no one would ever characterize their own story in this way—yet is that not what the story boils down to for many deeply religious individuals? Any story is better than that.

Another Way

The importance of the story of the cosmic war is that it offers an alternative. We do not have to accept that the world is chaotic and meaningless. Neither do we have to accept that the universe is ruled by a despotic and arbitrary deity. We can address the question of “Why is the world so messed up?” without having to give up meaning or accept a vengeful, careless, or impotent God. If a story can do all of that, it is important indeed.

Reexamination

The good news is that we can rewrite our stories as the true story becomes a part of us. We can write ourselves in as characters on the winning side in the cosmic war. This allows us to understand our significance in the universe. We are not meaningless, hopeless, and adrift in a chaotic world. God is, in fact, truly on our side. Every choice we make in our story advances either the side of light or that of darkness. Every decision either moves us closer to our true story or destroys another part of our soul. Hope exists—as does a path to the light.

Unfortunately, that is not always easy to do. Our stories are so deeply ingrained within us that an act of God is required to help us rewrite them. Fortunately, he offers us that help.

As we align ourselves with God’s story, we will find that our lives have more meaning and that we play a larger part in the story of resolving the problem of evil and establishing the principles under which the universe will operate throughout eternity.

However, this may mean that we must go back and reexamine much that we thought we understood. It may require that we reread the Bible, letting it reveal its story of the revelation of the character of the One about whom the Bible was written—God.  If we ask of every passage and every story in the Bible, “What does this tell us about God?” we may find that the pieces fit together in a beauty and consistency that we have never seen before. This will require that we read the Bible in a different way, because we are not looking for the little “proof texts” that support our preconceived ideas. Instead, we are looking for the story about God that runs through all the Bible narrative—the story of the kind of God revealed by Jesus, the story of God’s love for his creatures, the story of his self-sacrifice in his long struggle to win back his children and to set the universe right once more. Only the story of the cosmic conflict allows us to fit the pieces we find in the Bible into a larger whole, which brings this picture of God into focus. As we read through the Bible it gives us an additional perspective, in that we can now consider, “What would the onlooking universe have learned about God and his handling of evil from this story?”

Context

The stories that we choose for ourselves are what give meaning to our lives. And meaning requires context. The importance of the story of the cosmic conflict is that it supplies the context in which each of us can choose what story we want to live. Without the story of the cosmic conflict, there is no meaning or explanation for the mess the world is in, or for the existence of the evil. Nor is there hope for that lost home that we know in our heart of hearts we were meant to inhabit. The cosmic conflict story enables us to choose to have a part in a much larger and more significant story. It enables us to add our lives to a story that stretches back to before time began and forward into endless eternity. The cosmic conflict story connects us with the universe around us and tells us that we are not alone in a hostile place but instead are exiles from a country and a Father that are literally moving heaven and earth to bring us home again.

The Story of the Cosmic Conflict

But what is this story? Hints of it are seen in various places. But what is the overall tale? What does it look like if you put all the pieces together in one mosaic? In the previous chapter, we looked at some of the biblical evidence for this story, and we will continue to examine the evidence for this perspective as we continue through the stories of the Bible.  What follows is one synthesis of the various pieces of the puzzle. Others could be and, hopefully, will be made. But here is what this writer sees as the essential elements:

Once upon a time, long before the universe had been made or space and time existed, there was God, a community of One[2] who lived in the eternal Now. God said, “Let us make creatures like us. Let us create space within Ourself for a universe in which such creatures can live. Let us give them a part of Ourself,[3] the power to choose their own course so that they can love and can make what they will of themselves and their universe.” So God made a space within for a vast universe filled with diverse creatures and great wonders and said, “It is good.”

The very first of these creatures was the most brilliant and wonderful being of which God could conceive. He was as much like his Creator as it was possible for a creature to be. In honor of his emergence with the first light of the universe, he was given a poetic name that he shared with his Creator—Lucifer, Morning Star, the Light Bearer.[4]

There followed a time of creation, discovery, learning, growing, building, reveling in the magnificence of the unique gifts that had been given to every one of the endless stream of creatures that appeared from the hand of the Creator. Time unfolded, unhurried and unmarked. The community of the universe blossomed as its inhabitants discovered how their individual reflections of the Creator could be combined in ever new and surprising ways as they connected with each other in love. They cooperated in shaping and molding their universe, opening new possibilities, reveling in the universe that their Maker had given them and in the powers that he gave them for shaping it and themselves. Love flowed out from their Maker throughout the universe as they grew in unlimited and unquestioned love. The unwritten law of the Kingdom was simple, “Let your love flow without reservation.” This other-centered love made the Kingdom a dynamic place of indescribable joy and peace.

And then one day Lucifer inexplicably discovered pride and the possibility that one might turn inward and seek primarily the interests of self over the interests of others. Now aware of his own power and beauty as separate from all others, he became enamored of himself. [5] Perhaps he contemplated the fact that his freedom to choose, to create, to love implied accepting one path rather than another. Perhaps he wondered whether following God represented a restriction on his freedom.[6] Perhaps he considered whether a path opposite to God’s would increase his power and influence in the universe and make him equal to God.[7] No flaw in Lucifer was responsible for this excursion into dangerous territory. It was an exercise of pure freedom—the same kind of freedom God gives to all of his intelligent creatures. Neither was it done all in a moment, or without the knowledge and suffering of his Maker. God worked long and with loving patience, first with Lucifer himself, and later with all creatures who listened to Lucifer, their beloved leader. Tirelessly, God tried to bring them safely back to full reconciliation with their Creator and with their brothers.[8]

But when freedom is lost, all is lost. God knows this. So did Lucifer. The path to rebellion that Lucifer contemplated led to the ultimate destruction of freedom and ultimately to death. He knew where this path would lead and so formulated a plan to escape the consequences of his choice to leave God, the Source of Life.

To protect himself behind the allegiance of the creatures of the universe, he devised a plan—a double bind, so to speak—that he believed would force his Creator to keep him alive in his rebellion while enabling him to escape the consequences of his choice. This double bind required that Lucifer challenge God’s character and motives, that he put his Maker on trial before the entire universe. If Lucifer could place the blame for his own death on his Creator, he believed that he would be immune from the results of his choice.[9] He thought he had found a way to avoid the results of his focus on himself, a way to break God’s law of self-sacrificing love without suffering the consequences. He thought he could redefine freedom to be whatever he wanted it to be. To accomplish this, he had to win the onlooking universe to his side.

The plan was simple. His choice would lead to death. But, if he was allowed to die, then it would appear that he had spoken the truth about God killing anyone who rejected him. God would be seen with suspicion; love and trust would be destroyed, eventually bringing down all of creation. But if, as he believed, the Creator’s love would prevent him from allowing the death of his child, Lucifer could have his own way. He could then use this as evidence of the rightness of his contention about the lack of limits to freedom, and as the champion of unlimited and unrestricted freedom, he could gather the entire host of creatures under his power, without the need to bother with love. With all the creatures in the universe behind him, Lucifer imagined that he would have his heart’s desire and be equal with God. Lucifer thought he had found a flaw in his Creator’s design that would allow a creature to take possession of the entire universe without any checks to his power. He thought he had a sure win against the Infinite One.

Exactly where and how Lucifer crossed the line into full rebellion is a mystery. But by the time he did so, he had raised in the minds of the entire universe the core question in the cosmic war, “Can God be trusted?” He had convinced many in the universe that his argument had merit and ultimately persuaded them to follow him into full and open rebellion from which they chose to make return impossible. This is the beginning of the cosmic conflict, a great struggle over the character of God and the nature of his universe.

And there was war in the heavens, Michael and his followers fought, and the great dragon and his followers were cast down.[10] Cast down, but not destroyed. Lucifer (now called Satan, “the adversary”) was right in this: The questions that he raised required an answer before the universe could be restored to complete trust and harmony. The full folly of his choice had to be made plain lest it appear that Satan had been right and God would be seen as untrustworthy and be served from fear. The rebellion had to be allowed to play out before Satan and his followers could be granted their wish to be divorced from their Maker. But first, the true nature of the Designer of the universe had to be revealed. Only then could evil be unmasked. The Maker set about to show the universe what he was really like. He did this in part by creating our world.

The Creation story provided evidence that the Maker was not selfish with his creative power. He formed a world in which everything, from the lowest amoeba to the most intelligent, self-aware human, possessed the marvelous gift like that of the Creator himself, the power to bring into being other creatures like themselves. Surely after that the Maker could never be accused of being stingy with his power to create. He had given it to a whole world.

It may also have been that God wished to demonstrate what choice would be made by creatures who had not been previously aware of the issues in the ongoing cosmic conflict. What better arbitrators than ones who had no previous bias and whose ability to create little beings in their own image would give them a unique insight into God’s perspective with his children? Our world is the only one of which we know that was created after the beginning of the cosmic conflict.

Perhaps this made Earth a special target of hatred for a being who, though vast and mighty beyond imagination, could not do what any human or even the simplest algae could do—create another living being. Of course our first parents, like all creatures in the universe, had the right to choose their own path—to learn to face the enemy at the right time and in the right way and confirm their allegiance to the Maker, or to join those who chose to follow evil. But that did not mean that an all-out assault on them was allowed or that they were not warned and prepared. There was one and only one place where they could be contacted by God’s enemy. That place was the tree in the midst of the garden, the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.[11]

It may be that, when the time was right, Adam and Eve would have been able to go to that place and throw their adversary off their world. But they went to face Satan alone. They heard his arguments against the trustworthiness of their Maker, heard the lie that sin does not lead to death, and were deceived. They reached their hands out for the forbidden fruit, the shortcut to the knowledge that promised to make them like God (and who wouldn’t want to be like God?). But by accepting the enemy’s principles, they placed their world under the domain of evil, and Satan became the “Prince of this world.”[12] Our world has never been the same. Unlike their deceiver, however, Adam and Eve did not have full knowledge of all the issues or their consequences. Their freedom was not completely destroyed; they could still be given the chance to choose again.

Since then, our world has been caught in a great struggle, neither fully evil nor fully good. The strange beauty of our world, which still echoes the perfection of Eden, exists side-by-side with the horror and chaos of evil and darkness, which are the scars of the cosmic war. Parents come together in the joy of love and create brothers who kill each other. The grace and beauty of the effortless flight of a hawk ends in the brutal killing of a tiny field mouse.

As the Maker designed it, the community of humankind is built on the power of the connection—love and service of each human to others. But this was twisted into a society that is built on the principles of the adversary, the principles of a hierarchy of power, the strong exploiting the weak. The hatred of evil, which God placed in humanity for its protection, has been twisted into the deadly competition of war. Through this, the enemy of mankind seeks to induce the human race to destroy itself and its world. Instead of joy—fear, instead of harmony—strife, instead of peace—war, instead of plenty—want, instead of brotherhood—genocide. We know all too well the litany of what our world has become.

This is the story that drives each of our lives every moment of every day. Why is our world so messed up? Because our first parents chose to join a failed experiment in the exercise of power and to focus on themselves to the exclusion of all else.

If the story ended there, all would be lost. It does not. God had a way to answer Satan’s supposedly unanswerable accusations. A way existed to put to rest the doubts about the Creator, to reveal his love, and at the same time to unmask the true nature and ultimate consequences of evil. The double bind could be broken through an answer that Satan could never have imagined. Blinded by his own lies, he no longer understood that his Maker really did love him. He could not comprehend that God would stop at nothing to restore peace, harmony, and love to his creation. Since Satan lusted after ever more power, he could not conceive of God’s willingness to lay aside his power in order to deal with the emergency of evil.

As this world’s history unfolded, Satan knew that God was up to something. But he was still astounded when his Creator became an insignificant human and lived under the power of evil without being touched by it. And then, to Satan’s horror, Christ himself went through the process of disconnection, entering the darkness of God-forsakenness at his death. Jesus accepted the position that Satan had demanded for himself and his followers—that God should leave them alone. In this way, Jesus demonstrated that the consequence of evil was not death at the hands of their loving Father, but rather death as the inevitable result of their separation from the Source of all life. When the Creator of the universe “became sin, who knew no sin” (2 Corinthians 5:21) and was disconnected from God, crying, “It is finished!” (John 19:30), Satan knew that his lie had been unmasked and that for himself and his followers, all was lost. The true nature of God’s love had been revealed; the true results of sin had been demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt. Satan and his rebellion could no longer obtain a hearing with the onlooking universe, who were now celebrating the victory of their Maker and the imminent restoration of the Kingdom of light.

We now live in that brief time between that fatal blow to evil and the restoration of the Kingdom of God. Evil still battles, but the outcome is no longer in doubt. The victory in the war has already been achieved, though the mopping-up operations are still in progress. Not everyone here on earth is fully convinced about the truth of God’s trustworthiness. The enemy has been brought to bay but not yet completely destroyed. Satan’s principles of “self first” are still alive and well in people’s minds, even though the onlooking universe is no longer in doubt about Satan and his government. But because this process spans many of our short lives, we are not always aware that we are the children of a new morning, the second dawn, for which there will be no sunset. The universe has been rejoicing in the victory of their Captain. His trustworthiness has been reestablished; all doubts have been removed.

There remains only this brief time while the last movements are completed here on earth, and while the questions about us and whether we humans can be made safe to live with our elder brothers in a universe of peace and harmony are resolved. During this brief time, the choices here on earth play themselves out to their final conclusions. This is necessary so that there will be no further questions throughout eternity for which the evidence has not been recorded. We humans have a chance to make the choice for ourselves and for our world. “In which Kingdom do we wish to live?”

The lines are drawn; the two principles, long obscured, are starting to resolve into unmistakable camps. Soon, the polarization of the issues will no longer allow us to sit on the fence but will require that we make the choice.  We see here the context for the stories of our everyday lives—the battle in which we participate every day.

When all the issues are resolved, this last battlefield can be swept clean, and the restoration can finally begin. Many will have done little more than say “yes” to the Creator; many will need to be healed and shown the deeper issues behind their lives; many will need to grow strong in their connection with God and his greater universe. We will all need to learn to use our unique gifts to create a thing greater than any individual and to be integrated back into the larger community of God’s creation.

A crucial last act remains to this cosmic conflict—an act for which the Creator had to carefully prepare. This act is one that required that evil be fully revealed. Satan and his followers have demanded that their freedom be honored, that they be given their choice to leave their Creator behind and to go their way alone. It must be plain that this is their own choice—that their Maker is not doing this to them but is sadly giving them their way. It must be absolutely clear that God is honoring their choice only when there is no other way to reach them. All of us who witness this must be ready to watch as, for the first and last time, the Creator says good-bye and releases his most brilliant child and all of those who choose to go with him. We must be prepared to see our Friend and Maker crying, “Oh, how can I give you up—how can I let you go?”[13] and be prepared to say with full conviction—“Don’t cry, Lord, there is nothing more you could have done.”

We must be able to understand and to take this evidence forward into eternity, so that the harmony of the universe is restored forever. If a trillion years into the future anyone should ask, “What was that all about? What happened back then when evil was loose in the universe?” we must be able to tell them the story of the cosmic war. We must be prepared to tell them what part we played, to give praise for what was done for us, and thus to ensure that never, in all of eternity, will evil arise a second time. This story is the antidote for the evil in our lives now and for any future risk of evil. The story of how God patiently and lovingly won the war will become the story that shapes reality for all of eternity. The universe will be fail-safe, for never again can these questions be raised; never again can these charges be brought against the Creator and his way of running the universe. Never can there be a future challenge to the benevolent rule of love. This story, we can be part of—a story that can be our story. Could any story be better than that?

[1].  The Leibnizian philosophy spouted by Voltaire’s character Candide in his 1759 play Candide.

[2].  Matthew 28:19 alludes to the fact that the Godhead consists of the community of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

[3].  Prior to the creation of humans, angelic beings were created, who also have the capacity to decide for or against their Creator, as evidenced by the fact that the Bible describes good and evil angels. As humans are created in God’s image (Genesis 1:26), it is assumed that angelic beings are too.

[4].  Isaiah 14 and Ezekiel 28 describe the kings of Babylon and Tyre, both their aspirations for power, as well as their subsequent demise. Within the narrative, the strong allusion to a more powerful being, presumably Lucifer, is made and even mentioned by name in Isaiah 14:12. Ezekiel 28:13-15 describes a state of perfection, an Eden-like state, prior to the entrance of sin. Although there is no clear biblical evidence that Lucifer was the very first created being, there are allusions to this in the above-mentioned texts.

[5].  The narrative reveals that pride and the desire for self-exaltation were the motivating factors for Lucifer’s rebellion against God (see Ezekiel 28:15, 17; Isaiah 14:13; Job 41:15, 16; and 1 Timothy 3:6).

[6].  The initial charge against God’s government was that God coercively restricts the freedom of his creatures (Genesis 3:1; 3:5).

[7].  Isaiah 14:14 alludes to the fact that Lucifer’s ultimate goal was to be like God himself.

[8].  Although there is no direct biblical reference, it is assumed that God did everything in his power to save rebellious angelic beings, just as he has done everything in his power to save humans, including giving his own life for them. Peter indicates that angelic beings are still learning from the human experience (1 Corinthians 4:9; 1 Peter 1:12).

[9].  The snake in Eden (depicting God’s opponent, Satan) told Eve that she “would not surely die” as a result of eating the forbidden fruit. Satan alleged that God, who had said, “Thou shalt surely die,” had lied about the consequences of sin. He thereby implied that God threatens to kill those who rebel against his law. In his conversation with Eve, Satan insinuated that God’s warning is really a death threat to force our obedience.

[10].  The Greek word for “war” used in Revelation 12:7-11 is polemos. This battle is primarily for the hearts and minds of God’s creatures, rather than a physical battle of powerful weapons. God’s victory in this cosmic war was won through Christ’s selfless death on the Cross, rather than through a display of physical power on God’s part.

[11].  Rather than an arbitrary test of obedience, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil can be seen as a protection—the only place where Satan was allowed to present his rebellious ideas to the first humans, who were warned not to go close to the tree.

[12].  See John 12:31.

[13].  Hosea 11:8 describes how God feels when he allows his children to go their own way.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Would You Like to Meet the Old Testament God?

ALDEN THOMPSON

MEETING GOD IN THE OLD TESTAMENT was scary business. Some did everything to avoid it; others desperately tried to make it happen; still others were caught by surprise—and were astonished that they survived to tell the tale.

In some ways, the New Testament version of the search is more complex. On the one hand, those who have grown up in God-fearing homes probably remember those vivid words about the King of kings whom no one has ever seen or can see (cf. 1 Timothy 6:15, 16).

Yet the New Testament also proclaims a God who took human flesh: “We have heard it, and we have seen it with our own eyes; yes, we have seen it, and our hands have touched it” (1 John 1:1, GNB). This God that could be seen, heard, and touched was Jesus, the Word become flesh (John 1:1-3, 14). And even though the New Testament writers struggled to express their convictions about the relationship between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, John’s Gospel does say that the day would come when believers would no longer need Jesus as the mediator between them and the Father. Indeed, the time was coming, said Jesus, when they would pray in his name but he would not pray to the Father for them. Why? Because they would understand that the Father himself loved them (John 16:25-27).

Thus, even in the New Testament, the picture is mixed. Some were clearly terrified by the prospect of getting too close to God, while others longed to be in his presence. Jesus tried to make it clear to his disciples that his mission was to reveal to them a God they could love and adore. “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father,” he told Philip (John 14:9, NRSV).

That would seem to stack the deck on the side of gentleness. After all, this Jesus scooped up children in his arms (Mark 10:16); and even when he angrily cleansed the temple, the children sensed that his anger wasn’t against them and came running to him (Matthew 21:15). Yet even in the New Testament, God is not just gentleness and light. Jesus confronted evil forcefully, angrily. In this chaotic world, any God worthy of the name must be both powerful and gentle.

How can we bring those two together? With difficulty. When I was growing up, I tended to see the God of the Old Testament as the tough one; Jesus was so gentle I didn’t even see him as God. I knew he was “Son of God” and “divine,” but God himself? Not really. Some vivid Old Testament stories and the picture of Jesus pleading with the Father on my behalf had convinced me that only as a last resort would the Father let me slip through the back door into the kingdom.

Not until I was a second-year seminary student—as a result of absorbing John 14-17—did the “truth” strike home that Jesus was God in the flesh. Unless you have had such an experience, you can’t possibly imagine the joy that flooded my soul. No longer was I haunted by the picture of a distant and reluctant God. If God himself took human flesh and came to earth to save sinners, he must really want me in his Kingdom. The whole universe suddenly became a much friendlier place.

Now, that little story is important for understanding my perspective on the God of the Old Testament, for the God I had discovered in Jesus was one who would go to the ends of the earth to save a lost sheep, a wandering boy, a thief on the cross, a seminary student. Quoting the Old Testament prophet Isaiah, Matthew exclaims that Jesus would never “break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick” (Matthew 12:20, NRSV, quoting Isaiah 42:3). That means that God has a great interest in the wild and scary people of the Old Testament, maybe even a special interest. Furthermore, if someone from a good Christian home who had attended Christian schools all his life, couldn’t see the light about Jesus until his second year in seminary, then God would likely need to be patient with all kinds of people.

Five Views of the Old Testament

If I ask what someone is likely to find by dipping into the Old Testament, I can put most of the reactions under these five broad headings:

1. Avoidance. I continue to be startled by the number of thoughtful Christians who have tried to go back to the Old Testament in recent years, only to discover to their horror that they can no longer read it devotionally. At most, it becomes simply “literature.” In our day, avoidance may be the most widespread reaction to the Old Testament among believers.

2. Idealizing. Another widespread reaction among believers is the attempt to turn the entire Old Testament into stories suitable for small children. Some of the more horrific stories are hard to idealize. But it can be done. One can put a glossy spin on just about anything.

3. Idolizing. A small but vocal minority of believers revel in the powerful God of the Old Testament. For them, the Old Testament God is the “real” God who smashes his enemies and punishes sinners. They don’t lack for key texts.

4. Mocking. Believers typically avoid mocking the Bible. But when they “idealize” or “idolize” it, they provide a field day for agnostics, atheists, and cynics who see “idealizing” as dishonest and “idolizing” as either humorous or horrifying. The result is a deep reservoir of mockery published in books and on the web. One “humor” site I checked recently listed—in language not suitable for this book—the nine worst stories in the Old Testament. The comments and pictures were raw, often linked to modern action movies. Last I checked, the story claimed 2.1 million hits and had drawn 815 comments.[1]  But it’s not likely to lead people to Jesus.

5. Realism. With a touch of arrogance, I suspect, I describe my approach as the “realistic” one: telling it like it is! That means recognizing the real differences between the story of Jesus and what we find in the Old Testament. Why can’t we admit it? Why should reading the Bible be like attending a wedding or a funeral, events at which everyone “knows” things that are left unsaid? I am convinced that “realism” is a good choice for believers. Indeed, that is what this chapter is all about. We’ll explore some key principles and then try to imagine all five views in conversation with each other in search of common ground.

The Law Is Our Anchor, Jesus Our Touchstone

In more technical language, “radical divine adaptation” is the principle underlying this chapter. Classical theologians talk about “condescension” or “accommodation”; missiologists[2] prefer “contextualization.” All four words are roughly equivalent, though each one carries different baggage. I like “adaptation.” But we can be even simpler: God reaches people where they are.

Lurking behind those simple words, however, are two scarier ones, at least for many devout believers: change and diversity. A little reflection puts them into perspective, though; for if God is eager to save us and to help us improve our lives, then growth, change, and diversity are all inevitable. As the popular saying goes, “God loves you just as you are. But he loves you far too much to leave you where you are.”

If, however, we are going to embark on a journey that involves adaptation, growth, change, and diversity, we need two essentials: 1) a safe structure to anchor us en route—that’s the law; and 2) an ideal, a clearly-defined goal, to mark the end of our journey—that’s Jesus. Some brief comments about law and then more about Jesus.

The law is our anchor. Many years ago, some of my students told me that two of their friends no longer believed in God after taking my Old Testament history class. “Why?” I asked. “What did I say?”

“They claimed they couldn’t worship a God like the one they found in the Old Testament.”

“Oh,” I responded. “So it wasn’t what I told them; it was reading the Bible.”

“That’s right.”

Quite frankly, I’ve grown sick and tired of people losing faith because of what they find in their Bibles. So in my teaching and writing, I have vowed to make it perfectly clear what things are good and never change in Scripture. These become the foundation for understanding those things that do change.

Three key texts provide the safe and certain structure:

Matthew 7:12. Jesus says that treating others the way we would want to be treated is what all Scripture is about.

Matthew 22:35-40. Jesus lays out the two great commands: Love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself. But verse 40 is the often-overlooked punch line: “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets” (NRSV). In short, every bit and piece in Scripture must be linked in some way to Jesus’ two great commands.

Deuteronomy 4:13, 14. To my astonishment, an Old Testament professor at the University of Edinburgh nailed this text for me. I had told him about my students’ struggles with faith and how I had determined to make it perfectly clear that the law pyramid—the One great principle of love, Jesus’ Two great commands, and the Ten Commandments—provided the stable structure in Scripture that never changed. “You can put a double line after the Decalogue,” I said. “Everything else in Scripture illustrates and applies the One, the Two, and the Ten.”

Without missing a beat, he exclaimed, “That’s exactly where Scripture draws the line. Look at Deuteronomy 4:13, 14.

He declared to you his covenant, which he charged you to observe, that is, the ten commandments; and he wrote them on two stone tablets. (Verse 13, NRSV).

And the LORD charged me at that time to teach you statutes and ordinances for you to observe in the land that you are about to cross into and occupy. (Verse 14, NRSV).

Right then and there, he pointed out to me that verse 13 links together four key points: 1) God is speaking to all the people; 2) Moses describes the result as “covenant”; 3) Moses uses the phrase ten commandments; 4) God wrote the commandments on two stone tablets. Verse 14 marks two dramatic shifts: 1) God speaks to Moses only, not to the people; 2) the additional legislation is described with a different vocabulary: “statutes” and “ordinances.”

“You’re right,” said the professor, “The double line comes after the Ten Commandments.”

As Moses declared in Deuteronomy 4:5-8 (ESV), this law is God’s gracious gift to his people. The surrounding nations will exclaim, “Surely, this great nation is a wise and discerning people!”  To which Moses adds his own high praise: “For what other great nation has a god so near to it as the LORD our God is whenever we call to him? And what other great nation has statutes and ordinances as just as this entire law that I am setting before you today?”

The important thing to remember is that obedience to “law” was never intended to be a means of salvation. The law is simply a gracious guide to keep us out of mischief. In that sense it acts like a user-friendly owner’s manual. It shows us how to live—what works and what doesn’t.

But where do we get the power, the inspiration, and the motivation for living? For us, all that comes from Jesus. Let’s look more closely.

Jesus is our touchstone, our ideal: 1 John 1:1-4. I don’t hesitate recommending to some gentle people that they avoid certain parts of the Bible. And if anyone simply wants to know what God is like, I readily say, “Look to Jesus. He is God with skin on.” That line is not original with me, but it captures an important truth. In the New Testament, 1 John 1:1-4 probably comes closest to saying that Jesus is God with skin on—the law of love lived out in human flesh. John says they heard Jesus, they saw him, and they touched him. This was “the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us” (NRSV).

But looking to Jesus is not just a way of avoiding the Old Testament. I believe Jesus is also the clue that enables us to be realistic with the Old Testament. We’ll talk more about that. But first, let us note how Jesus himself gives us permission to contrast the Old Testament revelation with the revelation of God in Jesus Christ—while still maintaining the full authority of the Old Testament.

Matthew 5, the first chapter of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, is the crucial passage. In six comparisons, Jesus contrasts his way with that of the Old Testament. But each of them is more a both/and comparison, rather than an either/or. His first comparison is between the act of murder and murderous anger: “You have heard it said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder....’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister....” (Matthew 5:21, 22, NRSV). Worth noting is that the Greek word translated in English as “but” can actually be translated as “and.” Even though Matthew had the choice of using a stronger Greek word for “but,” the stronger word could tempt readers toward either/or thinking, rather than both/and. In any event, wanting to reflect faithfully Jesus’ teaching, Matthew preserved the authority of the Old Testament by choosing the word that allows a both/and comparison.

Another of the six comparisons focuses on adultery: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a women with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:27, 28, NRSV). Again, Matthew could have chosen the stronger word for “but”. Instead, he chose a both/and approach.

Perhaps the most challenging contrast involves enemies: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:43, 44, NRSV). “Love your neighbor” is simply an Old Testament quote from Leviticus 19:18. But “hate your enemy” is not a quote from our Old Testament. What was Jesus up to? Was he perhaps alluding to those fire-eating psalms that call down curses on God’s enemies? Psalm 139:21, 22 is a good example: “Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord? And do I not loathe those who rise up against you? I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them my enemies” (NRSV).

Again, Matthew had the choice of a stronger “but.” Yet even here he went with the milder contrast. Does Jesus want us to retain at least some of our fire some of the time? I suspect so. Are there not evils in the world that deserve an angry response? In one instance, Paul actually commands anger, exclaiming: “Be angry, but do not sin” (Ephesians 4:26, NRSV). Yet in his classic passage contrasting the “works of the flesh” with the “fruit of the spirit,” “anger” is listed under “works of the flesh,” not under “fruit of the spirit” (Galatians 5:13-26). Apparently, anger is a necessary but dangerous weapon in the Christian’s armory. But most of us don’t need any help in feeding our anger. That’s probably why the Sermon on the Mount emphasizes love for one’s enemies instead of hatred against evil.

Summarizing his purpose in the entire chapter, we would have to say that Jesus clearly wants to present his way as somehow “better”: clearer, stronger, richer, and deeper. But he is at pains to preserve the authority of the Old Testament: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets,” he says. “I have not come to abolish but to fulfill” (Matthew 5:17, NRSV). If we can understand “fulfill” in the sense of “filling full,” it brings all the pieces together: The Old Testament filled the glass half full; Jesus filled it the rest of the way. In particular, he focuses on the spirit of the law in ways that are often not as clear in the letter of the Old Testament laws. The Old Testament laws were just waiting to be filled full of richer meaning, and Jesus is the one who points the way.

So Jesus gives us permission to say that his way is clearer than that of the Old Testament. Yet the Old Testament retains its full authority. How can that be? Because the Old Testament documents God’s way of dealing with people who are not yet perfect; indeed, it deals with people who are a long way from perfect. If the Bible is to guide us today, we need to see it as a book full of examples of how God dealt with imperfect people. The apostle Paul makes that very point: “These things happened to them to serve as an example, and they were written down to instruct us, on whom the ends of the ages have come” (1 Corinthians 10:11, NRSV).

If the tough stuff provides us with examples of how God reaches down to people in their imperfect world, the examples must always fall far short of the ideal. People are always flawed examples. Yet here some “liberals” run into difficulty. They have a wonderful ability to define the ideal but often recoil against the earthier applications of that ideal in real life.

The deist Thomas Jefferson, for example, sought a deity of pure goodness. Thus he constructed his “Jefferson Bible” from the good things in the Gospels, ending up with 25,000 words. That’s 3.2 percent of the whole Bible. The good stuff clearly stood out, he argued, “as easily distinguished as diamonds in a dung-hill.”[3] Jefferson marks out a beautiful ideal but can’t tell us a thing about how a personal God deals with sinners. That’s not surprising, because a deist does not accept the idea of a personal God involved in human history. Jesus might have been a good man and an effective teacher, but for a deist, he could never be God incarnate.

The rest of the Gospels—the dung-hill stuff left out by Jefferson—give us a good start in knowing how God deals with sinners. But it is the Old Testament that opens the gates wide. There we see not only the horrifying consequences of sin, but we also see God’s daring efforts to work with those who found themselves deeply enmeshed in a sin-cursed world.

What we need to know is how to plot the course of history from the horrifying depths of sin and evil to the beautiful ideal revealed in Jesus. But we must be quite clear about the differences between the ideal and the horrific things that fall far short of it. There will always be good practical reasons for steering some people away from the tough parts of the Old Testament. But I am convinced that, in general, we are on stronger ground when we resist the temptation to appeal too quickly to the “ideal” in Jesus in an attempt to hide the raw reality of the Old Testament.

Bringing the Conversation Partners Together

Before we look more specifically at some particular passages in the Old Testament, let’s briefly explore what might separate and/or unite the five different ways of viewing the Old Testament. As the advocate of “realism,” I’d like to invite all the other groups into the same room for a conversation and see if we can find common ground.

If we start with a basic question and ask whether a god worthy of the name should be characterized more in terms of goodness or of power, the goodness-only people—the liberals—would probably emerge from among the mockers. They cannot imagine how a good god could be responsible for a world like ours. Some of these might even be “religious” people who would define God in terms of a force or a power rather than a person. Karen Armstrong, the former Catholic nun, might be in this group. Some would see a personal God who is a good listener but who is not responsible for the mayhem of daily living. Rabbi Harold Kushner might be included in this group. Some liberal Protestants would surface among the avoiders or the idealizers. These would see the heavy-handed stuff as originating in the minds of primitive people, thus being of human, not divine origin.

The strong “conservative” voices weigh in on the “power” side of the equation. God is God and answers to no one on earth or in heaven, natural or supernatural, human or demonic. God is in charge. Period. Calvinist John Piper and the dispensationalist John MacArthur would fit in here. God saves only those who follow Jesus. The good Buddhist, the good Muslim, the good heathen don’t stand a chance.

But there would also be a host of people on the fringes of our conversation who are simply puzzled and embarrassed. They want to say good things about God, because they have come to know him in a life-transforming way. Without any good alternatives, however, they often end up using traditional arguments to defend God’s goodness without thinking through all the implications. The “theocracy” argument—the direct rule of God—is perhaps best known of the traditional arguments: God was heavy-handed because this was a time in human history when he was in charge as Israel’s theocratic ruler.

Many believers are probably aware, at least vaguely, that in our Gospels, Jesus never killed anyone, never struck anyone. When he cleansed the temple, for example, he attacked the furniture, not the people.[4] They may sense the striking mismatch between an incarnate God—Emmanuel, “God with us” (Matthew 1:23) who takes children into his arms and allows believers to see and touch him—and a powerful theocratic ruler who leaves a trail of bodies on earth. Christians claim that Jesus is the incarnation of the Old Testament God. But sometimes that doesn’t sound very convincing.

Then the mockers begin to mutter about ethnic cleansing and the random killing of women, children, and animals. They celebrate David’s killing of 200 Philistines so that he could present their bloody foreskins to King Saul as the bride price for Saul’s daughter, Michal (1 Samuel 18:25-27). That’s the #1 story in the online list of worst Bible stories I referred to above. For those who want to worship the God revealed in Jesus, such mayhem makes traditional answers seem rather shaky. That’s what leads to avoiding and idealizing. And then the mocking just gets worse.

If the conversation could go on long enough, however, we might be able to agree on all sides that there appears to be a significant difference between the violent Old Testament God and the gentle Jesus revealed in the Gospels. The avoiders and the idealizers will resist such a conclusion and could even walk out on the rest of us. But if given half a chance, the mockers and the idolizers could help carry the day and convince even the idealizers that there is a difference between the Old and New Testament perspectives.

But why are there such differences within the human family? The apostle Paul may hold a clue, both in his life and in his writings. He had once been a man of violence. Without hint of conscience or remorse, he stood by and approved the stoning of Stephen, the first Christian martyr (Acts 7:54-8:1). But on the Damascus road, as he set out with a vengeance to crush the first Christians, the gentle Jesus unhorsed him (Acts 9:1-19), transforming this violent man into one of his followers. The importance of patience and gentleness loom large in Paul’s writings (cf. 1 Corinthians 13; Galatians 5:22, 23; Philemon 4:5). But because of his own experience, he has remembered the needs of the violent. When the church at Corinth was torn with strife, for example, Paul threw down the gauntlet: “What would you prefer? Am I to come to you with a stick, or with love in a spirit of gentleness?” (1 Corinthians 4:21, NRSV). Paul knew that some people needed the stick. Some of my students claim they do too. They say they’d never make it without God’s heavy hand.

The secret, then, is to listen carefully to each other so that we don’t discourage gentle people with a God who is too tough, or tough people with a God who is too gentle. In the end, it comes down to Jesus’ command to treat others the way we would want to be treated if we were in their place (Matthew 7:12; 22:35-40; Galatians 5:13, 14). And the great Jerusalem conference described in Acts 15 gives us a glimpse of how that can happen. As the believers struggled with questions of leniency and severity, they finally came to a conclusion, introduced with these precious words: “For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us....” (Acts 15:28, ESV). If we listen carefully and prayerfully to all the complex views represented in our conversation—and there are many more than just five—we won’t go too far wrong, especially if we ask the Spirit to be our guide.

Some of the gentlest people I know admit to having struggled with a terrible temper in their youth. But the Lord has tamed them wonderfully. Still, I have the distinct impression that some of those who are most inclined to idolize the tough God of the Old Testament emphasize the heavy hand out of a sense of their own desperate need. If the “liberals” were to succeed in stripping their God of his power, these struggling souls just might not survive.

The violence of God is only a “problem” in a sinful world. After dark, I suspect most of us would admit that we really want to live in a world where gentleness rules: in Isaiah’s peaceable, vegetarian kingdom where no one eats anyone else (Isaiah 11:6-9); in Jeremiah’s new covenant community where no one tells anyone what to do because God’s law is written on the heart (Jeremiah 31:31-34). Ironically, both of those wonderful ideals are found in the Old Testament. Yet it is Jesus who helps keep that vision alive.

High Road “Idealism” vs. Low Road “Realism”

The happier idealistic view of Bible and world will always stand in a certain tension with the darker realistic view. Elements of truth are present in both approaches, though most people will gravitate toward one view or the other. I use two phrases to illustrate the differences between them: “High road” emphasizes continuity, often seeing truth as something communicated in the beginning and then passed down unchanged from generation to generation. After all, Scripture itself says, “I the LORD do not change” (Malachi 3:6, NRSV).

By contrast, “low road” emphasizes discontinuity, noting how far the people have fallen from God. The low road allows us to see the raw materials God had to work with. A God who intends to win the people must meet them where they are. In the low road approach, the Old Testament narrative reveals first of all what the people were like. Then we can see what God was willing to do to reach them in their twisted condition.

The story of Jesus, God’s better way, is always the touchstone, the ideal, to which the narrative moves. But en route to that goal, the scenery is often stark. And here, it is well to remember one of the most important verses in the Bible, a constant reminder that what we find in the Bible is never an absolute reflection of God. Everything in the Bible points to God, but it can never become God: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8, 9, NRSV). As C. S. Lewis once put it, “My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to be shattered time after time. He shatters it Himself.... Could we not almost say that this shattering is one of the marks of his presence? The incarnation is the supreme example. It leaves all previous ideas of the Messiah in ruins.”[5]

As suggested above, a key factor in the low road approach is the conviction that God wants to win the hearts of his followers, not just bully them into submission. A sovereign God in the Calvinist tradition doesn’t have to justify his course of action to anyone. But a God who values human choice must constantly adapt to where the people are in order to win them. That inevitably means a starting point thoroughly distorted by sin. And now we turn to some key starting points.

Three Crucial Texts

To provide a framework within which we can safely interpret the Old Testament, three texts, illuminating three ideas, are crucial: A) Joshua 24:2, Abraham, the worshiper of other gods; B) Genesis 3-11, the step-by-step loss of the knowledge of God; C) 1 Chronicles 21:1, the role of Satan in the Old Testament. Let’s look more closely at each of these:

A. Joshua 24:2, Abraham, the worshiper of other gods. In my view, this passage is one of the most astonishing in the Bible but is rarely given its full value: “Long ago your ancestors—Terah and his sons Abraham and Nahor—lived beyond the Euphrates and served other gods” (Joshua 24:2, NRSV). Through the dominant influence of the “idealizing” impulse, the slogan “once true, always true” has prevented believers from actually hearing this verse. Instead of noting how far Abraham had fallen from the ideal, the traditional approach argues that whatever truths were told to Adam and Eve were faithfully passed down from generation to generation; thus, the “truth” was faithfully transmitted throughout the Old Testament era.

While there is a grain of truth in that approach, it leaves us speechless in the light of the actual behavior of the Old Testament characters. If Abraham knew the “truth,” why did he depart so far from it with no apparent qualms of conscience? If, as Joshua 24:2 says, Abraham’s own family worshiped other gods, would he not also fall short in other areas, too? The book of Genesis is revealing in that respect. The biblical stories themselves pass judgment on Abraham’s multiple lies. Both Pharaoh and Abimelech, to whom Abraham lied about his wife Sarai (= Sarah), knew that Abraham should have told the truth, and they told him so (Genesis 12:10-20; 20:1-18). But two incidents do stand out as illustrations of how different Abraham’s standards were compared with ours:

1. Abraham’s multiple wives. Throughout the entire Old Testament, the prohibition against tampering with another man’s wife is immovable. Abraham knew the rules, as did the men to whom he lied. Many years later, the prophet Nathan pointedly condemned King David for murdering Bathsheba’s husband so that he could take her as his wife (2 Samuel 12). But no prophet showed up to complain when David simply added another woman to his harem. David married Abigail, the wife of foolish Nabal, but he waited until her husband was dead to do so (1 Samuel 25:39-42). Scripture reports that David also married Ahinoam of Jezreel (1 Samuel 25:43). For a king to have more than one wife was simply seen as a fact, not a sin.

Somehow, the ideal of one husband and one wife had gotten lost. In Genesis 1-3, a married couple consisted of one man and one woman. Adam and Eve belonged to each other and to no one else. The New Testament emphasizes that ideal. Church leaders—elders, bishops, deacons, overseers, whatever you want to call them—are to be the “husband of one wife” (2 Timothy 3:2, 12, NASB). But no one stood up to object when Abraham took Sarai’s handmaid Hagar so that she could be the mother of Abraham’s male heir. Indeed, it was Sarai, Abraham’s wife, who suggested it (Genesis 16:1-4).

When it comes to multiple wives, however, the book of Genesis does begin to document the folly of polygamy. No explicit moralizing may be evident, but the moral comes clear in the stories themselves. Abraham’s household, for example, was torn apart by rivalry (Genesis 16 and 21). And two generations later, Jacob’s wives, Leah and Rachel, and their handmaids, Zilpah and Bilhah, found themselves in no end of turmoil (Genesis 29 and 30). The women even celebrated their one-upmanship in their children’s names. When Rachel’s maid Bilhah gave birth to a son, for example, Rachel exclaimed, “‘With mighty wrestlings I have wrestled with my sister, and have prevailed’; so she named him Naphtali” (Genesis 30:8, NRSV). Can you imagine the happiness of a home where a child is named, “Victory over my sister”? Genesis documents all that with painful clarity.

2. Sacrifice of Isaac. Abraham did not actually sacrifice Isaac on Mt. Moriah or anywhere else. But in the courts of heaven, he got full credit for his willingness to do so. The voice that saved Isaac announced, “Now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me” (Genesis 22:12, NRSV). What is so striking here is the apparent absence of conflict in Abraham’s mind: God commanded; Abraham obeyed. That contrasts sharply with his confrontational conversation with God over Sodom: “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked…? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked…. Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” (Genesis 18:23-25, NRSV). To put it bluntly, Abraham simply said, “You can’t do that! You’re God!”

Apparently, one of the disastrous results of sin was the distortion of the human understanding of divine authority. In a kind of snowball effect, Adam’s fear in the garden intensified to the point where the most frightful command imaginable—the sacrifice of the firstborn—came to be seen as the supreme gift to the gods. Abraham could confront God over the fate of the innocent in Sodom. But he would not, could not, did not question God’s command to sacrifice Isaac.

Hints of this “popular” view of the gods are scattered throughout the Old Testament. Exodus, for example, declares that all the firstborn belong to God, but the firstborn among humans can be ransomed. A devout Israelite would tell this story to an inquiring child: “When Pharaoh stubbornly refused to let us go, the LORD killed all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the human firstborn to the firstborn of animals. Therefore I sacrifice to the LORD every male that first opens the womb, but every firstborn of my sons I redeem” (Exodus 13:15, NRSV).

The Old Testament also reveals this same firstborn mentality among the surrounding tribes and nations. During the monarchy, for example, an Israelite invasion of Moab ground to a halt when the king of Moab offered the crown prince as a sacrifice to his god: “Then he took his firstborn son who was to succeed him, and offered him as a burnt offering on the wall. And great wrath came upon Israel, so they withdrew from him and returned to their own land” (2 Kings 3:27, NRSV).

Perhaps the most vivid biblical illustration of the psychology behind child sacrifice is recorded by the prophet Micah. In the words of the Good News Bible, the prophet ponders how to approach the God of heaven, moving “up” through a list of possibilities: With the best calves? Thousands of sheep? Endless streams of olive oil? And finally, “Shall I offer him my firstborn child to pay for my sins?” None of that, says Micah, penning these famous Old Testament lines: “What he requires of us is this: to do what is just, to show constant love, and to live in humble fellowship with our God” (Micah 6:6-8, GNB).

The point is that God does not “require” gifts at all; yet our diseased minds easily imagine that he will only be satisfied with heroic ones. And this is where the story of the sacrifice of Isaac is so crucial. Moderns struggle mightily with the idea of a God who would command Abraham to sacrifice his firstborn son. But Abraham didn’t struggle with it as we do. In his world, sacrificing the firstborn son was the highest and best gift one could give to the gods. Why should his God demand anything less? Abraham did not quarrel or resist. He simply trusted and obeyed.

But the goodness and greatness of the God he served—the same one we serve—is powerfully illustrated by the fact that on Mt. Moriah, as on Golgotha, it was God himself who actually provided the sacrifice. At Golgotha, of course, God took the next momentous step, the glorious and ultimate step of actually becoming the sacrifice. In Jesus Christ, God took human flesh in order to destroy once and for all that monumental lie that we must earn God’s favor through our gifts. Golgotha was still future. But at Moriah, God led Abraham through that crucial first step to the all-important conviction that whatever had to be done was done by God, provided by God. All Abraham had to do was accept. He did. And so can we.

In Genesis, there is no rhetoric of any kind against those who offer their children as sacrifices to the gods. Later, that issue was seen with much greater clarity. One of the horrific sins of King Manasseh, for example, was that “he made his son pass through fire” (2 Kings 21:5, NRSV). Thus, Manasseh came to be seen as the cause of Judah’s fall to Babylon (cf. 2 Kings 23:26, 27). Even righteous Josiah was not able to reverse the tragic plunge, marked, among other things, by Manasseh’s willingness to sacrifice his son.

But no such rhetoric marks the Genesis story. Instead of rhetoric against child sacrifice, Genesis records God’s command to Abraham to kill the child of promise. We see Abraham’s willingness to comply, a willingness lauded by a voice from heaven. But most importantly of all, we see God intervening at the last moment to supply the sacrifice, telling Abraham, “You cannot give your son; I will provide the sacrifice.” The power of that message would one day strike home even more powerfully in the light that streams from Calvary. But at Mt. Moriah, God took enormous risks with his reputation—at least his reputation in the eyes of moderns—to help Abraham take the first step toward a clearer understanding of God and his great plans for humanity.

Can we stifle our horror long enough to catch a glimpse of God’s great goodness and patience in making that kind of concession? His purpose was to lead Abraham toward God’s peaceable Kingdom. For me, God’s daring adaptation to Abraham’s needs plays a key role in my understanding of the goodness of God. I am powerfully drawn by the picture of a God who will go anywhere, anytime, in order to save one of his children.

B. Genesis 3-11, step-by-step loss of the knowledge of God. The sobering sequence of events narrated in Genesis 3-11 subtly illustrates how the “low road” came about. Each major event simply documented a further falling away from God’s ideal: Sin in the garden; Cain murders his brother; the Flood cleanses the earth; humans rebel at Babel. Though Genesis does not tell us directly that Abraham’s family worshiped other gods, this is made explicit in Joshua 24:2.

Does Scripture give any clue as to why God might have allowed this catastrophic falling away? The model I find most persuasive takes its starting point from the book of Job, where the conflict between God and the adversary focuses on the life of one of God’s followers. God “allows” the adversary to pummel Job. But if Job remains faithful, God wins.

Similarly, God has allowed the adversary to use this world as his laboratory to prove that his way is superior to God’s. Genesis 3-11 documents the results, as Satan seeks to show that selfishness is superior to love as the preferred mode of existence. With Abraham, God returns to more active involvement in human activities, making a covenant with Abraham so that Abraham can be an effective witness for God.

All this is part of a free-will “theodicy.” Theodicy is the technical term referring to the attempt to justify the existence of a good and all-powerful God in a world scarred by sin. The witness of God’s people for him becomes a crucial part of the cosmic drama, however flawed they might otherwise be. That idea can still be a powerful one today as God’s people see themselves as witnesses for God in the great cosmic conflict.

C. 1 Chronicles 21:1, the role of Satan in the Old Testament.[6] In terms of insights that have enabled me to read the Old Testament without going out of my mind, discovering the true role of Satan in the Old Testament has to rank near the top of my list. The pieces fell together when my professor at the University of Edinburgh, a believer-turned-agnostic, called me up one day to invite me to a lecture he was giving to the Bachelor of Divinity students on “The Demonic Element in Yahweh.” He urged me to attend, since the topic touched on my research interests.

Along with Uzzah’s “electric ark” (2 Samuel 6:1-11), the professor ticked off a long list of passages where God is described as the primary actor in bringing evil and disaster. His final punchline: “So the Old Testament Yahweh is a combination of a good god and a desert demon.” The ministerial students seemed dazed. But for me, that lecture suddenly brought together the important pieces of a larger puzzle, revealing how God radically adapted his message to the needs of the people he was trying to reach.

The nations surrounding Israel were polytheistic, worshiping many gods. In a polytheistic culture, the good things are attributed to the good gods; bad things to the evil ones. And those evil deities could be so volatile that humans were constantly brewing up incantations and magic rituals to placate them.

In Israel, all magic and incantations were strictly forbidden. The idea that Yahweh could be manipulated by magic would have been an appalling thought to any of Israel’s leaders. The great danger for Israel, however, lay in the temptation to worship Satan as another god. So rather than just forbidding magic and incantation, God went a step farther and claimed full responsibility for both good and evil. “You shall have no other gods before me,” declares the Decalogue (Exodus 20:3). But the practical implementation came when God simply claimed that he was responsible for everything.

As a result, throughout most of its pages, the Old Testament portrays God as the active agent in all things. God is the one who causes everything. Satan simply drops from sight until the very end of the Old Testament. Indeed, only three passages in the entire Old Testament are explicit in their reference to the “Satan” who was God’s great adversary, and all three passages were either written or canonized toward the end of the Old Testament period:

1. 1 Chronicles 21:1. Chronicles is the last book in the last section of the Hebrew Bible (Writings or Kethubim). Here, in the unhappy story of David’s ill-fated census, Satan is identified as the one who made him do it. Even David’s crusty general Joab urged David not to do it, but David went ahead anyway. The result was a devastating plague on God’s people.

But the same story is told in 2 Samuel 24, and there, it is God, not Satan, who tempts David to number the people. At the time when 2 Samuel was written, God was still assuming full responsibility for evil. We find it troubling that God would tempt David to do wrong and then punish him for it. But that was all part of God’s pastoral plan to prevent the people from worshiping Satan as another god. When Yahweh’s monotheistic credentials were secure, then he could permit the truth about Satan to be opened to the people. But until that was certain, polytheism was a real threat. Ironically, in the twenty-first century in Africa, the threat of the demonic still ranks high among those who choose to follow Jesus.

As startling as the differences between 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles might appear, in a strange sort of way, they are echoed even in our modern Western world; for in a time of crisis and disaster, who can clearly distinguish the hand of God from the hand of the evil one? And each one of us will draw the line in different places. But understanding God’s purpose in adapting to the needs of the people should prevent us from seeing our particular perspective as the only one that is pure and true. Ours is still just one perspective among several that point to a larger reality that we can only faintly grasp. And those diverse views can be found in Scripture, if we are not too frightened by the idea of “diversity.”

2. Job 1:6-12; 2:2-10. The book of Job, also in the last section of the Hebrew canon (Writings or Kethubim), opens with five scenes that set the stage for the drama that follows. Two of the scenes are set in God’s heavenly court, where Yahweh and Satan converse over Job’s fate; the other scenes illustrate Satan’s work in tormenting innocent Job. What is so striking about the book is that Satan appears only in the two heavenly scenes (1:6-12; 2:2-10), but nowhere else in the entire book. The author and the readers know about Satan. Job himself knows nothing.

3. Zechariah 3:1-5. The book of Zechariah is in the second section—next to last—of the Hebrew canon (Prophets or Nebiim). But since it was written after the Babylonian exile, it still reflects the latter part of the Old Testament era. In Zechariah 3, Satan confronts Yahweh over Joshua the high priest. But Yahweh rebukes Satan, clothes Joshua in a fresh festal robe, and claims him as his own.

After the close of the Old Testament, other passages came to be interpreted as referring to Satan; but those interpretations do not seem to have been made in the Old Testament era itself: the serpent of Genesis 3; Azazel/scapegoat of Leviticus 16; King of Babylon/Lucifer of Isaiah 14; and the king of Tyre/anointed cherub of Ezekiel 28. In each case, believers have affirmed the later application, even if it was not clear to the original Old Testament readers. The absence of identification in the Old Testament itself simply confirms the basic pattern that is evident throughout all the early books of the Old Testament: for pastoral reasons, God had assumed full responsibility for both good and evil.

The Lucifer figure is not clearly linked with Satan until the writings of the Christian Church father, Tertullian (ca. 160-225 CE [AD]). But the figure of the serpent in Genesis 3 is perhaps the most tantalizing one. The serpent is first clearly identified as Satan only in Revelation 12:9 in the New Testament. In Genesis, it is simply “more crafty than any other wild animal that the LORD God had made” (Genesis 3:1, NRSV). Throughout the Old Testament, the serpent remains an ambiguous figure. In the wilderness, God commanded Moses to make a symbolic bronze serpent as a means of healing for those bitten by the poisonous serpents. The biblical description is worth noting: “Whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live” (Numbers 21:9, NRSV). According to 2 Kings 18:4, King Hezekiah “broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made, for until those days the people of Israel had made offerings to it” (NRSV).

The practical implications of all this are that when we read the Old Testament, we can recognize that God is not giving the people absolute truth but truth adapted to their particular needs—all the more reason to remember that all Scripture represents a dramatic adaptation to our limited understanding. According to 2 Timothy 3:16, all Scripture is “inspired.” But Isaiah 55:8, 9 is equally crucial: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” If God’s ways really are higher than ours—a truth that we should be able to affirm without hesitation, first because we are creatures and second because we are sinful creatures—then we really shouldn’t throw away even the tiniest scrap of God’s precious adaptations. Every piece is part of the larger puzzle that God is putting together for us, one of the “examples” to which Paul is referring in 1 Corinthians 10:11.

Theocracy, Cherem, and the Moabite Stone

In the last section of this chapter, I want to return once again to the way the traditional theocracy argument seeks to defend the power and sovereignty of the Old Testament God. For me, it has become very important to see the violence attributed to God in the Old Testament not simply as a revelation of God’s sovereign power, but as first and foremost a revelation of the violent attitudes of the people God is seeking to meet, people whose attitudes toward authority have been horribly twisted by sin.

Such an approach allows me to see the God of the Old Testament not as a violent deity with a short fuse—as a superficial first reading of certain Old Testament narratives might suggest—but as an incredibly patient God who is willing to put his reputation on the line in order to reach violent people. In other words, the God of the Old Testament is just like Jesus. And we can wholeheartedly affirm Jesus’ claim that the God of the Old Testament—the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—was his God. Indeed, we can affirm the long-standing Christian claim that Jesus was and is the great “I Am” (cf. John 8:58). He is our Creator, Redeemer, Judge, and King. Let me say it again: the Old Testament God is not a God with a short fuse but is incredibly patient—like Jesus.

Such an approach assumes that God desires to win the hearts of his people, not just frighten them into submission. He does indeed frighten them, for that is the only way he could win their respect initially. “All Israel shall hear and fear,” declares the book of Deuteronomy again and again (e.g., 13:11; 17:13; 19:20; 21:21; 31:13). God will win them with methods they can understand. The footprints of this all-powerful God are everywhere present in the Psalms: “The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars.... He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox” (Psalm 29:5, 6, NRSV). When it comes to being tough, Yahweh can handle all comers. Ancient Israel needed to know that!

By contrast, the theocracy argument seeks to protect divine sovereignty by not questioning any aspect of divine activity as reported in Scripture. If God does it, it must be right, and “right” in some kind of absolute sense. As the popular saying puts it, “The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it.”

In the traditional theocracy argument, all divine activity is given absolute status as opposed to being seen as an adaptation to twisted human circumstances. I agree with theocracy supporters in affirming the conviction that the Lord does not “change” (Malachi 3:6). But where I part company with them is in my understanding of how God relates to human beings who certainly do change.

Shouldn’t an unchanging God seek to meet the needs of those who have fallen away from him? That’s why in the KJV Old Testament, God “repents” far more often than humans do! Yet he does not repent as a mortal repents, for God never does anything wrong. When humans change for better or for worse, however, an unchanging God responds to their new position—“repents” as in the KJV, or “changes his mind” as in the NRSV.

In this connection, the juxtaposition of two verses in 1 Samuel 15 is striking, especially in the KJV. When Saul begs Samuel for a reconsideration of the judgment against him for failing to carry out the mandate against the Amalekites, Samuel responds: “The Strength of Israel will not lie nor repent: for he is not a man, that he should repent” (1 Samuel 15:29, KJV). But the same chapter concludes just a few verses later with this striking statement: “The LORD repented that he had made Saul king over Israel” (1 Samuel 15:35, KJV).

That God never changes is terribly true. That’s why he is ever ready to adapt to the ever-changing patterns of human behavior, as he eagerly seeks to draw wayward creatures to his kingdom and to life.

I continue to marvel at how the violent, self-centered nature of sin allows cultural deviations to shape Christian thinking about God and Scripture, even overturning some of the clearest teachings of Jesus. By contrast, those inclined to idealize Scripture often seek to impose on the biblical narratives greater clarity and greater purity than the narratives actually support.

Ironically, in our modern world, some of the most significant departures from the teachings of Jesus come from those who claim to be supporters of a “high” view of Scripture. We are so easily blinded by our own views—all the more reason why we should pray for the gift of careful listening. The ideal of Acts 15:28 should always be our prayer and goal, so that all our decisions will seem “good to the Holy Spirit and to us.”

While the well-intentioned purpose of the theocracy argument has been to preserve God’s sovereignty, it has led to justifying all kinds of evil in the name of God, including ethnic cleansing. In this connection, one nineteenth-century archeological find towers above all others in illuminating the violent side of the Old Testament. Discovered in 1868, the Moabite Stone (Mesha Stele) celebrates a victory over Israel by King Mesha of Moab in the time of King Ahab (ca. 850 BCE [BC]) and his “dedication to destruction” (cherem) of a whole Israelite town in honor of his god, Chemosh. Understandably, the stele was erected by Mesha, not by Israel!

The key word is cherem. It refers to the total (sacred) destruction of a town or a people. The concept lies behind at least three of the most jarring stories in the Old Testament. We’ll look at those stories briefly, but with the clear understanding brought by the Mesha Stele that cherem was a standard of justice in the culture of that time, not an idea brought to the culture by God. God chose to work within their understanding of justice in order to bring them a step closer to the ideal as seen in Jesus.

A. Jericho and Achan in Joshua 7.  Jericho had been “dedicated to destruction” (cherem). All the booty was dedicated for sacred purpose, but Achan broke the rules, leading to the defeat of the whole community. The matter was put right only when Achan and his entire family were stoned to death. “Then the LORD turned away from his burning anger” (Joshua 7:26, NRSV). H. Wheeler Robinson articulated the idea of “corporate personality” to explain the ancient way of corporate thinking, a sharp contrast with our individualism.[7] Typically, we attempt to give an individualist reading to the story, justifying the killing of the children because they were in on the secret. But read Joshua 7. Even the animals were killed. Individualism is nowhere in sight. If you were part of the community, you lived and died with the community.

B. Jabesh-Gilead in Judges 21. The wild narrative of the dismembered concubine in Judges 19-21 is what I have called the worst story in the Old Testament.[8] Cherem plays a key role in the story, when Israel “discovered” that they needed wives for the surviving Benjaminites after Israel had avenged the death of the concubine. To supply the need, Israel dedicated the entire Israelite town of Jabesh-Gilead to destruction (cherem), because it had not responded to the call to arms. But the virgins were spared from the devastation of the cherem because they were needed for “sacred” purpose, namely, to become wives of the Benjaminites. The virgins would satisfy the desperate need triggered by Israel’s rash oath not to provide wives to the Benjaminites.[9] Oath plays a similar role in that other horrific story in the Old Testament—the story of blood-guilt for Saul (2 Samuel 21:1-14).[10]

C. Amalekites in 1 Samuel 15. Through Samuel, God commanded Saul to wipe out the Amalekites entirely. The CEV is vivid enough: “Go and attack the Amalekites! Destroy them and all their possessions. Don’t have any pity. Kill their men, women, children, and even their babies. Slaughter their cattle, sheep, camels and donkeys” (1 Samuel 15:3). Just to add frosting to this grim cake, Samuel with his own sword atoned for Saul’s neglect: “And Samuel hewed Agag in pieces before the LORD in Gilgal” (1 Samuel 15:33, NRSV).

In contrast with Jericho, where Rahab along with the valuable hard goods were to be spared for sacred use, and in contrast with Jabesh-Gilead, where the 400 virgins were spared for “sacred” purpose, King Saul had been commanded to totally destroy the Amalekites. On his own authority, he had spared the king and the choice animals. The judgment against Saul by God and Samuel was clear: he did not live up to what he himself knew to be right. It would be entirely wrong to impose our modern ideas of compassion on the story and laud Saul for being humanitarian—after all, he presumably did slaughter men, women, children, and even the babies! It was a clear-cut case of failure to follow justice as defined by his community, his culture, his God. And he was rightly condemned for it.

Conclusion

The story of Jesus has shaped our thinking in many wonderful ways. He is still our great ideal, the clearest revelation of God ever given to our troubled little planet. When Jesus commanded us to love our enemies (Matthew 5:44; Luke 6:27); when he cried out from the Cross, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34, NRSV), he reveals to us a broken-hearted God who weeps over a lost creation. This God is the one who longed to gather the children together as a mother hen gathers her chicks under her protecting wings (Matthew 23:37; Luke 13:34). And if we see God as he has revealed himself in Jesus, we can see the tears streaming down his face in those violent Old Testament incidents as he allows terrible things to be done and said in his name. Is God really like that? Only when it can be part of a larger plan to reach violent people at their level of knowledge so that he can nudge them toward his new Kingdom, his new earth, where he declares that no one “will hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea” (Isaiah 11:9, NRSV).

That is a God I could worship forever.

As a last word, some visionary lines from one of my correspondents who was quoting her preacher father: “Don’t believe anything about God that would make you think less of him, for it could not be true. It is impossible to believe him to be better than he really is.”[11]

True. Especially when one sets out to read the Old Testament.

[1].  http://www.cracked.com/article_15699_9-most-badass-bible-verses.html.

[2].  Missiology is the area of practical theology that investigates the mandate, message, and work of the Christian missionary.

[3].  Thomas Jefferson, The Jefferson Bible: The Life and Morals of Jesus of Nazareth (New York, NY:  Henry Holt, 1995), ix.

[4].  An observation from Reynolds Price, Three Gospels (New York, NY: Touchstone/Simon and Schuster, 1997), 43.

[5].  C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York, NY: HarperOne, 1961), 66.

[6].  For a more complete discussion, see chapter 3, “Whatever happened to Satan in the Old Testament?” in Who’s Afraid of the Old Testament God? (Paternoster, 1988; Zondervan, 1989; Pacesetters, 2003).

[7].  H. Wheeler Robinson, Corporate Personality in Ancient Israel (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press, 1964). A formal definition for “corporate personality” would be: “The extension of a person’s personality beyond himself in time and space.” In other words, the effect of a person’s sin extended beyond himself to affect others in a family or tribe (space), even when the one who committed the sin was dead and gone.” See the discussion of Achan (Joshua 7) and blood-guilt for Saul (2 Samuel 21) in chapter 6, “The worst story in the Old Testament: Judges 19-21” in Alden Thompson, Who’s Afraid of the Old Testament God? (Paternoster, 1988; Zondervan, 1989; Pacesetters, 2003).

[8].  See chapter 6 in Who’s Afraid of the Old Testament God?

[9].  Worth noting is that rigid adherence to the external parameters of an oath is another feature of the Old Testament that we find strange. Even with the 400 virgins from Jabesh-Gilead, the Benjaminites still needed 200 women. But rather than break their oath, the Israelites instructed the Benjaminites to go to the annual dance at Shiloh. Anyone needing a wife could snatch one of the dancing maidens. If the fathers or brothers of the snatched maidens complained, this is the line of logic suggested by the people of Israel: “Be generous and allow us to have them; because we did not capture in battle a wife for each man. But neither did you incur guilt by giving your daughters to them” (Judges 21:22, NRSV).

[10].  See chapter 6 in Who’s Afraid of the Old Testament God?

[11].  From Phyllis Vineyard, quoting Hugh W. Williams, her father, in a letter dated August 3, 1997.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Inspiration

(The Bible Says It, but That Doesn’t Settle It)

BRAD COLE

MARYANN, A MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN AND a new convert to Christianity, was facing a spiritual crisis. The pastor of her church had emphasized that the Bible is “the word of God.” One of the frequent expressions used in his sermons was, “If the Bible says it, I believe it, and that settles it!” After a sermon on the importance of reading the Bible, Maryann decided to take her newfound religion seriously. With the pastor’s words echoing in her mind, she began to read, imagining that she would discover straightforward truths that she could implement in her own life.

What Maryann discovered in the opening books of the Bible was shocking and disturbing. “If a man takes a second wife, he must continue to give his first wife the same amount of food and clothing and the same rights that she had before” (Exodus 21:10, GNB). She kept repeating the words to herself, “If a man takes a second wife?” She couldn’t understand why the verse didn’t read, “I forbid taking a second wife.” Things got worse. She read that if a woman was “proven” not to be a virgin when she married (which was determined by how much blood was on the wedding sheet), she was to be stoned to death (Deuteronomy 22:13-21). Things got much worse. “If two men are having a fight and the wife of one tries to help her husband by grabbing hold of the other man’s genitals, show her no mercy; cut off her hand” (Deuteronomy 25:11, GNB). She found the treatment of women so offensive that she finally called her friend and with great passion exclaimed, “The Bible may say it, but as a woman that does not settle it for me!” Her friend laughed and said, “Maryann, you’re not supposed to start with the Old Testament. Jesus did away with all of that. You need to start with the New Testament!”

That evening, Maryann hopefully turned to the New Testament. She randomly chose 1 Corinthians, anticipating that she would now find enlightening truth that would nourish her soul:

The head of woman is man…. A woman dishonors her head if she prays or prophesies without a covering on her head, for this is the same as shaving her head. Yes, if she refuses to wear a head covering, she should cut off all her hair…. A woman should wear a covering on her head to show she is under authority. (1 Corinthians 11:3, 5, 6, 10, GNB).

She forged on until finally giving up in despair after reading chapter 14:

The women should keep quiet in the meetings. They are not allowed to speak; as the Jewish Law says, they must not be in charge. If they want to find out something, they should ask their husbands at home. It is a disgraceful thing for a woman to speak in a church meeting. (1 Corinthians 14:33-35, GNB).

Maryann went to bed that night deeply discouraged and ready to throw in the towel on her new faith. She could not reconcile the advice of her pastor, “If the Bible says it, I believe it, and that settles it,” with passages in both the Old and New Testaments that seemed entirely unacceptable. According to Paul, “All Scripture is inspired by God…” or literally, “God breathed” (2 Timothy 3:16, GNB). But how can Paul’s seemingly unreasonable words about women be “God breathed”? An incorrect understanding of biblical inspiration has led people in recent history to quote the Bible while defending all sorts of immoral activities, including polygamy, slavery, war, and the oppression of women.

Context and Culture

Many of us have a tendency to view the Bible as a timeless expression of God’s will. It would be more accurate to say that the Bible is God’s story—a detailed account of his dealings with humanity, condescending to meet people in various times and cultures that are markedly different than our own. With this in mind, it is critically important to read each biblical passage with a great sensitivity to the context of when and where it was written. For example, when the Israelites entered the Promised Land, the practice of “private vengeance”[1] was the cultural norm. This meant that if a man accidently killed another man when his axe head flew off the handle, the dead man’s family had the right to track down the slayer and kill him, even though there had been no malicious intent (Deuteronomy 19:1-11). Rather than authoritatively abolishing this cruel practice, God provided for cities of refuge to which the innocent man could flee and remain in safety. The offender was not allowed to leave this city until the death of the high priest (which might be decades later); and if he left at any point prior to that, he was a fair target. It would have been “too much, too fast” for God to simply abolish the practice of private vengeance entirely; so God met the people where they were, allowing for their need of vengeance, yet at the same time providing protection for the unintentional slayer. In this way, God slowly pointed them toward a more peaceful and fair way of resolving such disputes, while taking into account their immature understanding of justice.

The same could be said of polygamy, which was widely practiced even by many of the giants of faith such as Abraham, Jacob, David, and Solomon. While God did not approve of polygamy, he allowed for the practice, yet improved on the status quo by ensuring that women were at least taken care of in this male-dominant society: “If a man takes a second wife, he must continue to give his first wife the same amount of food and clothing and the same rights that she had before” (Exodus 21:10, GNB).

In order to understand why God gave certain rules during this time that seemingly condoned ungodly practices, we must remember the context of Mount Sinai. God was dealing with a people who were dancing around a golden calf just forty days after witnessing his glory on the mountain—so quick to give up on God and plunge into idolatry. These were people who needed rules not to have sexual relations with animals and that a man should not sleep with his mother.[2] At Mount Sinai, God asked his rebellious people to take one step in the right direction. Had God been too authoritative and demanded strict monogamy in polygamous Israelite society, he would have been rejected by his people. God stuck with them in their spiritually immature behavior, pointing toward a better way.

An understanding of biblical inspiration that does not take into account the context and culture during which these commands were given could lead today’s reader to take the absurd position, “I can take a second wife, because Exodus 21 gives me permission to do so as long as I treat my first wife fairly.” A more reasonable view of inspiration will lead us to read passages such as this and say, “The Bible is inspired by God, but these words were given for a time and culture that is very different than the one I live in. In this specific case, I will not do what the Bible says.” Rather than being offended, perhaps we can appreciate God’s patience, stooping to meet people where they were, progressively unfolding his will to them, and leading them no faster than they could follow. Numerous additional Old Testament examples of this principle could be listed, such as the commands to stone Sabbath breakers (Numbers 15:35) and rebellious children (Deuteronomy 21:20, 21).

The New Testament presents more of a problem, however, because there is a tendency to assume that Jesus did away with all those Old Testament rules, so that now we “get the straight truth.” But what about New Testament passages that command a woman to wear a head covering and to keep quiet in church (1 Corinthians 11:6; 14:33-35)? Are these passages applicable today, or should they also be interpreted in the light of that time and culture?

Are the Words of the Bible Dictated by God?

The Bible has been miraculously preserved through the centuries as a reliable and credible book. The Dead Sea Scrolls and countless ancient manuscripts provide evidence of this. Archeological and more recent historical evidences have proven that many of the Old Testament details about various kings and cities are true. When the Bible is held up to the most intense scrutiny, there are remarkably few mistakes. Many of the seeming contradictions in Scripture bring forth a beautiful and deep meaning once the passage is understood properly and compared with the rest of the Bible.

Some have reasoned that if the Bible is worthy of the title “the word of God,” then all of its words must represent God’s literal words dictated to his prophets. The argument follows that if there is any human element in the Bible that, by its very nature is imperfect, the validity and authority of the Bible will be destroyed. A simple reading through the Bible, however, will make it clear that there are many words that were not dictated by God. For example, Paul’s letter to the Corinthians reveals his faulty memory, “I thank God that I did not baptize any of you except Crispus and Gaius. No one can say, then, that you were baptized as my disciples. (Oh yes, I also baptized Stephanas and his family; but I can’t remember whether I baptized anyone else.)” (1 Corinthians 1:14-16, GNB). These are obviously Paul’s words, not God’s. God could have sharpened Paul’s memory so that this passage would have been “perfect,” yet it is inconsequential exactly how many people Paul baptized in the church at Corinth.

In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul offered his opinion on matters even when he did not have a clear command from God as to what advice he should give: “Now, concerning what you wrote about unmarried people: I do not have a command from the Lord, but I give my opinion as one who by the Lord’s mercy is worthy of trust…. That is my opinion, and I think that I too have God’s Spirit” (1 Corinthians 7:25, 40, GNB). Even though we should value Paul’s opinion very highly, we must recognize that he twice labels this advice as “my opinion” and adds that “I do not have a command from the Lord.”

We soon discover that the Bible represents a beautiful union between God and sinful humanity, giving witness to God’s willingness to interact with us. It did not fall from heaven written by God’s own finger. God inspired the minds of his prophets, but he did not dictate the words or control the pen. On this point, let’s consider a few passages from the book of Matthew. In the Matthew lineage of Jesus, he states that “there were fourteen generations from Abraham to David, and fourteen from David to the exile in Babylon, and fourteen from then to the birth of the Messiah” (Matthew 1:2-7, 14, GNB). Yet if we turn back to the Old Testament source for this lineage, we see that Matthew left out three descendants between Jehoram and Uzziah (1 Chronicles 3:10-12).

Matthew quotes Jesus as saying, “As a result, the punishment for the murder of all innocent people will fall on you, from the murder of innocent Abel to the murder of Zechariah son of Berechiah, whom you murdered between the Temple and the altar” (Matthew 23:35, GNB). Turning back to the Old Testament source for this story, we discover that Zechariah’s father was actually Jehoiada, not Berechiah (2 Chronicles 24:20, 21). Did Jesus make a mistake? Surely not! More likely, back in that time people did not have a Bible in every home. Rare scrolls were available only in the synagogue and to the very wealthy. So, as the author of Matthew tried to recall the words of Jesus that were spoken many years earlier, he simply remembered the wrong name for the father of Zechariah.

Matthew also writes, “Then what the prophet Jeremiah had said came true: ‘They took the thirty silver coins, the amount the people of Israel had agreed to pay for him, and used the money to buy the potter’s field, as the Lord had commanded me’” (Matthew 27:9, 10, GNB). Once again, Matthew must have remembered this passage about the thirty coins and the potter’s field from his reading of the Old Testament, not realizing that it is from the book of Zechariah, not Jeremiah (Zechariah 11:13).

When Matthew reflects on the famous “Sermon on the Mount,” he records Jesus as saying, “Happy are those who know they are spiritually poor; the Kingdom of heaven belongs to them” (Matthew 5:3, GNB). Luke’s account of the same sermon is different, however: “Happy are you poor; the Kingdom of God is yours” (Luke 6:21, GNB). Despite the fact that only one of these versions is the correct representation of Jesus’ words, both of them present a beautiful truth to us today (God loves the poor and the spiritually ignorant), and they enlighten us to the fact that both the physically and spiritually poor were regarded as cursed by God in that day—a false paradigm that Jesus tried to shatter.

After Jesus calmed the storm in Matthew, he was met by “two men” who were demon-possessed (Matthew 8:28); in the gospel of Luke, however, it is “one man” who had a demon (Luke 8:26). Matthew records “the wife of Zebedee” asking Jesus to place her sons at Jesus’ right and left (Matthew 20:21); Mark tells of the same encounter, but this time “James and John” present this request to Jesus (Mark 10:35). As Jesus left the city of Jericho, Matthew records that “two blind men” came up to Jesus (Matthew 20:29); Mark, on the other hand, tells us that it was a single “blind beggar named Bartamaeus” who was healed by Jesus on this occasion (Mark 10:46, GNB).

These examples do not discredit the validity of the Bible in any way. In fact, they actually give credibility to Scripture because they provide a characteristic eyewitness feel to the story. For example, when I’m asked to see a patient for an episode of loss of consciousness, I have to rely on eyewitnesses to obtain a detailed account of the event. Invariably, different eyewitnesses have a slightly different recollection of the events. Certain details of what happened are highlighted by one person, while to another, something else stood out. One eyewitness may say that the seizure lasted two minutes, while another thought it lasted ten minutes. One witness remembered that it happened in the produce section of the grocery store, while another insisted that it happened near the checkout stand, and so on. This kind of eyewitness reporting of Jesus’ words by the gospel writers is actually supporting evidence that the events really happened. They enhance the credibility of the Bible rather than destroy it.

These small inconsistencies in Scripture reflect the human element and endear us to a God who works with us despite our imperfections. God did not take control of Matthew’s pen as he wrote down the wrong father of Zechariah. The Holy Spirit of truth did not intervene to sharpen Paul’s memory as to how many people he baptized in a certain town. God’s Spirit infused the minds of the Bible writers, not their pens. God inspired his prophets to tell the greatest story of all time—the story of how God has dealt with the very sad rebellion in his universe. The Bible records the story of God’s incredible condescension to restore our love and trust. The story reveals the character of God, and we should read it with this singular focus in mind. The Bible is the book that introduces us to Jesus Christ as the clearest reflection of who God is. And it also introduces us to God’s adversary in this great cosmic conflict between good and evil. When we read every biblical story and verse in the light of this controversy over God’s character, we discover a harmonious book from beginning to end, revealing God’s continuous attempt to reunite with his sinful children.

Jesus Is the Gold Standard

Much of the Bible seems out of harmony with Jesus’ message. For example, the song of the prophetess Deborah praises the actions of Jael when she killed Sisera by driving a tent peg through his head. This song concludes with the words, “So may all your enemies die like that, O LORD…” (Judges 5:31, GNB). Essentially, Deborah is saying, “May all your enemies die with tent pegs driven through their heads!” If Deborah could wish for God’s enemies to be killed with a tent peg, does this give me permission to do the same today?

Even though God worked through Deborah’s life to accomplish some good, we should not assume that her words represent God’s attitude toward his enemies simply because they are recorded in the Bible. If we want to know how God feels about his enemies, we must turn to Jesus, who is “the exact likeness of God’s own being” (Hebrews 1:3, GNB). Since the life and death of God in human form, all words in Scripture should be evaluated by comparing them to what Jesus revealed. For Christians, Christ’s example is the new standard and the pinnacle of all truth. In Jesus we are free to develop a new attitude toward our enemies:

But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who mistreat you. If anyone hits you on one cheek, let him hit the other one too; if someone takes your coat, let him have your shirt as well. (Luke 6:27-29, GNB).

Christ is our ideal, not any other person in the Bible—even prophets.

The Hateful Words in Scripture Are Inspired

A fair question to consider is why God would allow for such “un-Christian” words to be recorded in Scripture. The words of Deborah are mild in comparison to those of David and Jeremiah:

Break the teeth of these fierce lions, O God. May they disappear like water draining away; may they be crushed like weeds on a path. May they be like snails that dissolve into slime; may they be like a baby born dead that never sees the light. Before they know it, they are cut down like weeds; in his fierce anger God will blow them away while they are still living. The righteous will be glad when they see sinners punished; they will wade through the blood of the wicked. (Psalm 58:6-10, GNB).

Happy are those who pay you back for what you have done to us—who take your babies and smash them against a rock. (Psalm 137:8, 9, GNB).

These words clearly do not reflect the spirit of Christ, who laid down his life for his enemies rather than punishing them. If these angry words in Scripture do not reflect the ideal of Christ, is there any value in reading them? Are they “uninspired”? Here, we recognize the value of the entire Bible! If the Bible were only filled with the stories of perfect people who spoke perfect words, it would not reach people like you and me who at times do have hateful thoughts toward our enemies.

Jesus didn’t hate others, and he never had a heart that was proud and selfish. So how does God reach those of us who have strayed so far from the ideal? The Bible reveals the lives and words of sinful humans who have struggled, failed, and at times overcome with God’s help. It records the thoughts and feelings of God’s people in all their rawness and candor and thereby becomes a means of reaching us in our separation from God. The Bible reveals God’s willingness to heal by reaching down to bring us out of our misery and to lead his immature children step by step to the new paradigm of understanding and obedience revealed by Jesus.

Psalm 139 is a good example of this. In the first half of this Psalm, David acknowledges that God knows what he is thinking:

LORD, you have examined me and you know me. You know everything I do; from far away you understand all my thoughts. You see me, whether I am working or resting; you know all my actions. Even before I speak, you already know what I will say. (Psalm 139:1-4, GNB).

David is in conversation with God and acknowledges that God knows what is really on his mind, so he dares to share these angry thoughts with God as his prayer continues:

O God, how I wish you would kill the wicked! How I wish violent people would leave me alone! They say wicked things about you; they speak evil things against your name. O LORD, how I hate those who hate you! How I despise those who rebel against you! I hate them with a total hatred; I regard them as my enemies. (Psalm 139:19-22, GNB).

There it is, out in the open! David dared to be honest with God: “God, I hate them with a total hatred!” But notice what follows: “Examine me, O God, and know my mind; test me, and discover my thoughts. Find out if there is any evil in me and guide me in the everlasting way” (Psalm 139:23, 24, GNB).

This Psalm reflects David’s admission that there is evil inside his heart. But how encouraging it is to us that he felt safe enough to share that hatred with God! God did not inspire David to hate his enemies, but he did inspire him to write down this prayer as a model for us. If I hate my enemy, yet realize that this is not a Christ-like feeling, this passage encourages me to be honest and to tell God that I hate my enemy. It gives me confidence to be open with God in prayer and provides an opportunity for God to heal my inner being. Not until we begin to reflect David’s honesty with God can healing, restoration, and new patterns of thought begin to take place. This passage in Scripture reaches us just where we are and helps to bring us closer to the ideal—it is absolutely inspired!

The Bible does not come with an attached commentary from God. Political ads typically conclude with an endorsement from the candidate, “I am Joe Smith, and I approve of this message.” The hateful words of Jeremiah to smash babies against the rocks[3] do not conclude with an endorsement from God, “I am God and I approve of the theology in this Psalm.” The only way to read and interpret Scripture is by allowing the life and death of Jesus to be our gold standard for Christian living. Yet there are some occasions when God did insert “commentary” into Scripture. Jeremiah, the one who once wished for babies to be dashed against the rocks, recorded one such example:

LORD, if I argued my case with you, you would prove to be right. Yet I must question you about matters of justice. Why are the wicked so prosperous? Why do dishonest people succeed? You plant them, and they take root; they grow and bear fruit. They always speak well of you, yet they do not really care about you. But, LORD, you know me; you see what I do and how I love you. Drag these evil people away like sheep to be butchered; guard them until it is time for them to be slaughtered…. The LORD said, “Jeremiah, if you get tired racing against people, how can you race against horses? If you can’t even stand up in open country, how will you manage in the jungle by the Jordan?” (Jeremiah 12:1-3, 5, GNB).

What follows is God’s rebuke of Jeremiah’s attitude, which The Message puts this way:

So, Jeremiah, if you’re worn out in this footrace with men, what makes you think you can race against horses? And if you can’t keep your wits during times of calm, what’s going to happen when troubles break loose like the Jordan in flood? (Jeremiah 12:5, MSG).

If God rebuked the words of the prophet in verses 1-3, do we still consider them to be inspired? The interaction between Jeremiah and God gets even more intense:

Then I said, “Lord, you understand. Remember me and help me. Let me have revenge on those who persecute me. Do not be so patient with them that they succeed in killing me…. I did not spend my time with other people, laughing and having a good time. In obedience to your orders I stayed by myself and was filled with anger. Why do I keep on suffering? Why are my wounds incurable? Why won’t they heal? Do you intend to disappoint me like a stream that goes dry in the summer?” To this the Lord replied, “If you return, I will take you back, and you will be my servant again. If instead of talking nonsense you proclaim a worthwhile message, you will be my prophet again.” (Jeremiah 15:15-19, GNB).

God just declared a portion of the words of Jeremiah, a “holy man of God,” to be “nonsense” and not a “worthwhile message.” Yet this is a vitally important inspired passage of Scripture! Like David, Jeremiah spoke to God with honesty and passion about his anger. And it’s clear from the rest of the book of Jeremiah that he accepted God’s gentle correction.[4] If the Bible only reflected the ideal and the perfect, it would be about two pages long and filled only with statements such as, “God is love” and “Love your enemies.” What makes the Bible so powerful and so inspired is that we can sometimes identify with the anger and hatred of people like Jeremiah and David. Yet we shouldn’t lose hope, because these stories reveal a God who is patiently willing to lead us to view our enemies as Christ viewed his enemies. If this vital human element were absent from the Bible, it could not reach those of us who occasionally have thoughts such as Jeremiah did.

The Bible reveals a dramatic contrast between Jesus Christ and everyone else. As Christians, we are first and foremost followers of Christ. We should pattern our lives only after Christ and not after Jeremiah, David, or Deborah. The Bible reveals only one true Hero, and that is Jesus.

Progressive Unfolding of Truth

Every verse in Scripture does not stand on an equal “level of truth,” so to speak. Rather, God met people in their culture, time, and understanding with rules and commands that do not always apply to our current time. In the book of Ezekiel, God admitted, “I did this because they had rejected my commands, broken my laws, profaned the Sabbath, and worshiped the same idols their ancestors had served. Then I gave them laws that are not good and commands that do not bring life” (Ezekiel 20:24, 25, GNB, emphasis supplied).

Jesus gave us permission to read the Bible as a progressive unfolding of truth. In the Sermon on the Mount, for example, he pointed to several Old Testament teachings and repeated, “You have heard it said…but now I tell you….” Should Christians, for example, practice the “eye for an eye” type of justice? It’s true that God gave this command (Exodus 21:24), but in Jesus we can say that this is one of the laws that are “not good” and that “do not bring life.” They were “emergency laws” that God implemented to deal with problems concerning a specific time and culture but that are not applicable for us anymore. “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ But now I tell you: do not take revenge on someone who wrongs you. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, let him slap your left cheek too” (Matthew 5:38, 39, GNB). “Eye for an eye” justice was an improvement on the ancient form of vengeance justice where punishment exceeded the crime, but a form of that is not to be practiced in the lives of Christ’s followers. In Jesus we can appreciate that God will meet a hardened people with words that were needed at the time. But that is not how we are to live today. Christ has shown us a better way—a way that is true for all eternity.

To the Pharisees, Jesus’ “undoing” of certain passages of Scripture was very offensive. “If the Bible says it, I believe it, and that settles it” was their view of inspiration. On one occasion, they came to trap Jesus after he had done away with Moses’ divorce rules:

Some Pharisees came and tried to trap him with this question: “Should a man be allowed to divorce his wife for just any reason?” “Haven’t you read the Scriptures?” Jesus replied. “They record that from the beginning God made them male and female.” And he said, “This explains why a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one. Since they are no longer two but one, let no one split apart what God has joined together.” “Then why did Moses say in the law that a man could give his wife a written notice of divorce and send her away?” they asked. (Matthew 19:3-7, NLT).

Please don’t miss Jesus’ spectacular reply, which is so critical to our understanding of inspiration: “Moses permitted divorce only as a concession to your hard hearts, but it was not what God had originally intended” (Matthew 19:8, NLT).

In the Old Testament, divorce was remarkably cruel. Tired of your wife? Hand her divorce papers, send her out on the streets, and marry a different one. Divorce was essentially the end of a woman’s life—now she was considered disgraced and was unlikely to be given provision for food and clothing by another man. The Old Testament divorce rules were actually a protection against this abuse of women. Jesus tells us that the actions and rules in the Old Testament do not reflect the ideal and are, in fact, far from the ideal. Jesus is saying that “in your hard-hearted rebellion, God had to lay down less-than-perfect rules as a concession to your cruelty, because it was the only way that God could reach you.”

A Specific Example of Change

This chapter has described two principles of biblical inspiration. First, the Bible represents the union of God with sinful humanity, where we discover a God who meets people in their specific time and culture. Second, the purpose of the Bible is to introduce us to the person of Jesus Christ as the gold standard of God’s character and the ideal for our own life. When we consider these principles, we can appreciate God’s condescension in allowing for practices that were light-years from his ideal—such as private vengeance, divorce laws, eye-for-an-eye justice, and even teachings on polygamy and slavery—as a stepping-stone in the right direction, slowly moving his people away from chaos and anarchy and closer toward the ideal of Jesus. But at the same time, we recognize that Jesus has shown us God’s ideal way and that these practices no longer apply to us today. A failure to view inspiration in this light can easily lead us to hold rigid beliefs and cruel practices that were observed at one time in history but that we should no longer follow today. For example, Jefferson Davis could say with confidence and with the Bible in hand that slavery “was established by decree of Almighty God…. It is sanctioned in the Bible, in both Testaments, from Genesis to Revelation…. It has existed in all ages, has been found among the people of the highest civilization, and in nations of the highest proficiency in the arts.”[5] Today do we hold beliefs, based on a false understanding of inspiration, that prevent us from rightly representing Christ?

Many important issues could be raised here, but let’s return to the subject that was so troublesome to Maryann—the treatment of women in the Bible. Let’s focus our attention on the subject of women’s ordination.[6] Once again, if we do not incorporate into our view of inspiration the belief that God is stooping to meet people in their time and culture, it is easy to pluck out of context a number of key texts to make the case that the Bible does not support women’s ordination. If, however, we seek to understand the time and culture during which these words were given and consider Jesus’ treatment of women, we may come to quite a different conclusion. For example, in the context of saying that “the head of woman is man” (1 Corinthians 11:3, GNB), Paul said, “A woman dishonors her head if she prays or prophesies without a covering on her head, for this is the same as shaving her head. Yes, if she refuses to wear a head covering, she should cut off all her hair …a woman should wear a covering on her head to show she is under authority” (1 Corinthians 11:5, 6, 10, GNB). Paul himself admitted, however, that these words can be read only within the context of his culture, “But if anyone wants to argue about this, I simply say that we have no other custom than this, and neither do God’s other churches” (1 Corinthians 11:16, GNB).

A few chapters later, Paul advised: “The women should keep quiet in the meetings. They are not allowed to speak; as the Jewish Law says, they must not be in charge. If they want to find out something, they should ask their husbands at home. It is a disgraceful thing for a woman to speak in a church meeting” (1 Corinthians 14:33-35, GNB).

In the twenty-first century, is it really a “disgraceful thing for a woman to speak in a church meeting”? These words can be understood only within the context of a specific time and culture. During the time of Corinth, it is said that there may have been as many as 1,000 temple prostitutes at the Temple of Aphrodite.[7] The early converts to Christianity were coming out of paganism and had many pagan remnants in their worship and beliefs about God. Paul needed to counsel the Corinthians not to get drunk at the Lord’s supper, to avoid the wild and unintelligible speaking of tongues, and to “keep away from the worship of idols” (1 Corinthians 10:14, GNB). He even had to deal with a man in the church who was sleeping with his stepmother. Finally, an exasperated Paul said, “I declare to your shame that some of you do not know God” (1 Corinthians 15:34, GNB). Paul’s words with regard to women perhaps reflect his desire that the early church distinguish itself from the pagans and take a step in the right direction, in comparison to the role of women as temple prostitutes in religious services. In fact, it seems that if a man today is going to apply Paul’s words about women in this passage to our time and culture, he should be the first to go all the way and to also follow Paul’s advice for men, “It is good for a man not to marry” (1 Corinthians 7:1, GNB).

Paul’s treatment of women was, in fact, liberal, when we consider the view of the Jewish leaders toward women in this time—which went far beyond “keep quiet in church,” to this extreme position: “Rather should the words of the Torah be burned than entrusted to a woman…. Whoever teaches his daughter the Torah is like one who teaches her obscenity.”[8]

Paul’s words must be seen as a balance between the chaotic worship of the pagans, on one hand, and the severe oppression of women by Jewish religious leaders, on the other. Paul’s counsel, although it may sound offensive to our twenty-first-century ears, was actually progressive for his time.

Finally, what does Jesus reveal on this subject? Although Jesus did not specifically address women’s ordination, he was remarkably countercultural in the way he treated women. Jesus ignored the Jewish ritual impurity laws, which said that a man should not speak to a woman (other than a wife or daughter) during her period (Mark 5:25-34). Jesus also broke the Jewish rules of the day that forbade conversing with foreign women. He not only spoke with the Samaritan and Canaanite women, but he also went out of his way to help both of them. Much to the dismay of his listeners, Jesus did not forbid the teaching of women but encouraged it when he praised Mary who sat at his feet as he taught (Luke 10:38-42). Jesus referred to a woman who was “bound by Satan” as a “daughter of Abraham” (Luke 13:16), an expression found nowhere else in the Bible. This phrase stands in contrast to the male-dominant “sons of Abraham” expression. Jesus’ public praise of the poor widow as she dropped her penny in the offering box must have sounded very strange—not only was she a woman, but she was also poor and therefore regarded as cursed by God. Jesus overthrew divorce traditions that gave a husband permission to unilaterally serve his wife with a bill of divorce. And just consider his gracious treatment of the woman caught in adultery! Some have argued that this story shouldn’t be in the Bible at all, given that some ancient manuscripts don’t include it. But no one would have made up a story that was so countercultural—in fact, literally “unthinkable” during that time.

Because of the respect and generosity Jesus showed toward this mistreated and abused segment of society, he was loved by women. While most of the male believers were absent during Jesus’ crucifixion, the women were there in numbers (Matthew 27:55, 56; Mark 15:40, 41). And who was there to greet Jesus when he was resurrected but women; the men were hiding in fear behind locked doors.

If we read the Bible as a story where God’s character and ideal for us are progressively unfolded—recording how God meets people in their time and culture, always seeking to lead them out of spiritual darkness and closer to the truth—then we will be at the forefront of creating equality for all people. Christians should be more like Christ and progress beyond today’s cultural norms to something that looks like this: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28, GNB).

Conclusion

The Bible is a dynamic, living book that tells God’s story—a story that climaxes in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Reading Scripture in this light becomes an exciting experience as we begin to see ourselves on a journey toward Christ and toward truth. Let’s not read the Bible in order to find what we already believe to be true or merely to confirm the beliefs of fifth-century bishops, sixteenth-century reformers, or the pastor of our local church. The Bible is humanity’s journey toward Christ, a progressive unfolding of the truth about God and his principles. When we read the Bible in this way, it becomes a living book that breaks down our selfish hearts and enables us to become more like him.

[1].  E. G. White. Signs of the Times, January 20, 1881.

[2].  See Leviticus 18 for a detailed list of rules on this topic.

[3].  Psalm 137.

[4].  For a detailed description of this process in Jeremiah’s life, go to: <http://godscharacter.com/index.php/bible-study/jeremiah-lamentations/jeremiah-a-story-about-god>.

[5].  Dunbar Rowland, quoting Jefferson Davis, in Jefferson Davis, Constitutionalist: His Letters, Papers and Speeches (New York, NY: J. J. Little & Ives Company, 1923), 286.

[6].  The process by which individuals are consecrated and set apart as clergy to perform various religious ceremonies.

[7].  John S. Bowman and Sherry Marker, Frommer’s Greece, 4th edition (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley Publishing, Inc, 2004).

[8].  Rabbi Eliezer, “Mishnah, Sotah 3:4.”

CHAPTER NINE

The Great Spectrum of Law

VIRGINIA DAVIDSON

I LOVE PROVERBS. I collect quotes, aphorisms, and pithy sayings—such as: “Things should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler” (Albert Einstein); “A good conscience is a continual Christmas” (Benjamin Franklin); and “We will make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give” (Winston Churchill); as well as bits of anonymous wisdom, such as: “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure,” and “There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.”

So when the opportunity came to write a study guide on the biblical book of Proverbs, I was thrilled! Such wisdom to marinate in! Such insight! This would be a delightful project to write—but also, I hoped, a treat for those who would study it.

Working through the book verse by verse, I outlined the structure of the manuscript according to the various subjects, combining smaller categories into larger constructs by either harmony or contrast. As I continued to research the biblical Proverbs, I was struck by the recurring theme of cause and consequence,[1] almost as though it were a law of some kind. Maybe it is? It certainly describes reality—and isn’t reality the logical nature of Law?

Solomon also seemed to equate natural law with “wisdom,” indicating that before God made anything in the universe, he planned each intricate piece and precisely how it would work; he detailed the integration of all the parts and operations of the grand machine (Proverbs 3:19, 20; 8:22-31). That plan, that complex and elaborate system of information, comprises Law. It’s wisdom. It’s how he runs the universe, how he operates the earth—the information by which things operate and interact.

The laws of thermodynamics, Isaac Newton’s laws of motion, Johannes Kepler’s laws of planetary motion, the equations of Albert Einstein and James Clerk Maxwell; the theorems and laws of Pythagoras, Avogadro, Robert Boyle, Jacques Charles, and so many more great minds, were not their creations but their discoveries. Laws are considered laws because they are constant, consistent. If we accept the biblical account, we know moral law came from God; if we acknowledge God as Creator/Designer, it makes sense that the laws of science, also, are his handiwork.

Still, we see an inconsistency in the world around us: the operational “laws” of “tooth and claw” and “survival of the fittest” are out of sync with the goodness and harmony we would expect from God. To make sense of this apparent discrepancy, we go back to Genesis (Genesis 3:1-19) and read about the Fall and the subsequent changes in the spiritual realm, mirrored in the natural, and realize that what we see now is not what God originally designed for this planet. Yet his fingerprints can still be seen in our world—evidences of a Designer who loves, who is good and wise.

So we have in one reality two separate domains: one ruled by natural law, the other by moral law—a sensible division between parallel jurisdictions. Or is it? As I considered the wisdom spoken of in Proverbs 3 and 8 and the possibility that Law is really mostly a description of how things work, all things, I began to wonder whether there might be a connection between the natural and the spiritual and what that continuity would look like—what kind of structure could model it.

Memory stirred: From the mists of my imagination, a great spectrum materialized. It had begun years ago with my husband Jim, who likes to build models for teaching science—but not just science for its own sake. He uses science to illustrate truth.[2] His models, though often made from tangible materials, are sometimes constructed of logic and imagination.

One afternoon, Jim decided to build a scale model of the electromagnetic spectrum. In textbooks, the spectrum is usually represented by a logarithmic[3] scale along the edge of a page—approximately ten inches long. A logarithmic scale, he reminded me, is a way to compress huge amounts of data into a chunk of information we can grasp—as in the Richter scale for measuring the magnitude of earthquakes. By contrast, Jim’s model would be built on a linear scale, possibly marked out on a rope of some kind, with various colors representing the different wavelengths of energy. He could imagine stretching it diagonally across a large auditorium—a fabulous teaching tool! It would begin with TV and radio waves at one end and move through microwaves to infrared light before encountering the “visible window” of light that we can see, also called “white light.” Then would follow ultraviolet light, x-rays, and gamma rays. Some lists end with cosmic rays.

Jim took his calculator out of his pocket and started figuring. He found his calipers for measuring microns and consulted the calculator again. Finally, he looked up. “Honey, you’re not going to believe this,” he said. “There’s no building big enough in this country to house a linear scale model of the spectrum that would have any meaning. In fact,” he looked at his notes, “if we were to stretch the spectrum 3,000 miles across the United States, from New York to San Francisco, do you know how big the ‘visible window’ would be?” I had no idea. “The band representing visible light would be seven one-thousandths of an inch[4]—about the width of the thickness of two sheets of notebook paper!” I was appropriately awed.

Now, considering Jim’s linear scale model of the electromagnetic spectrum spanning the United States, fabricated from logic and imagination but representing all the different manifestations of the various wavelengths of one kind of energy, I saw it could easily model one grand continuum to illustrate Law—all Law.

In our imaginations, let’s replace the TV and radio waves at one end with laws of gravity and attraction, the strong nuclear force, and the weak nuclear force. We’ll continue with laws of nuclear physics; laws of light, electricity, sound; laws of motion and heat; and moving on to laws of chemistry and biology, physiology; laws of reproduction and growth and health, psychology and behavior—down to the minutest levels. Let’s also include laws of mathematics, aeronautics, and astronomy; and laws that extend beyond the farthest reaches of current research. Surely, there’s no end to the information encoded in the world of science. Everything is governed by Law. In fact, “Without law, nothing would be safe.”[5]

But the questions have been asked: Isn’t God arbitrary in making laws for everything? Wouldn’t freedom be more free without Law? Or could freedom from Law ever be really free? Wouldn’t we want every road to have its own destination—figuratively, as well as literally? If we were to love the law and live in harmony with it, wouldn’t that be the greatest freedom?

At this point I would like to propose an inclusion into the spectrum—this great grand continuum of Law. In the approximate location of psychology and behavior, I see moral law—though refined beyond the usual definitions. Scientific laws are formulated from observable data. In contrast, God personally and specifically gave to humans the moral law, typically equated with the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:2-17)—which it is, but not restricted to it, as Jesus taught in his “Sermon on the Mount.” He said that if a man looks on a woman to lust after her, he has committed adultery with her in his heart. He also said that one who hates is as guilty as one who kills (Matthew 5:21, 22).

If the Ten Commandments were merely a directory of rules—a list of dos and don’ts—then it wouldn’t have made a lot of sense for Jesus to extrapolate from lust to adultery, or from ungrounded anger to killing. (I don’t relish the idea of having enemies at all, but I’d much rather have someone hate me than kill me!) But Jesus seems to be saying something larger about the Ten Commandments. He’s applying the underlying Law, the principle on which the Ten are founded, which he discussed later with a lawyer who tried to trip him up by asking, “Which is the great commandment?”

“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these” (Matthew 22:37-40, KJV). Paul, in the book of Romans, addressed the same issue when he wrote, “Love worketh no ill to his neighbour: therefore love is the fulfilling of the law” (Romans 13:10, KJV).

So the moral law, as part of the grand continuum of Law, moves beyond a list of commands—“Do this” and “Don’t do that”—and becomes, like the laws of science, a description of how things were created to work—how we were created to work. It describes how we will behave when the law of love is written in our hearts. Others might murder, but you won’t—you will love your neighbor as yourself. Others might steal, but you won’t. In fact, you won’t even want to—you won’t even covet anything that is your neighbor’s. You will take from “the system” what you need, enrich it with something of yourself, and return it for the good of others.[6] You will take to give. You will live to bless. You will love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself, always treating him as you would want to be treated (Matthew 7:12).

Noting again the great spectrum of Law, the Ten Commandments correspond very nicely to the colors of the rainbow, broken out of “white light” by the “prism” of divine revelation. Scripture directs us to the great principle of love underlying the Decalogue—love as enduring as eternity, love that is the foundation of the throne of God and the essence of his character (1 John 4:16).

Might I also suggest, at the risk of oversimplification, that the cyclical nature of so much in the world around us indicates a level of cooperation with this law of love, this rule of unselfishness. Water rises to the clouds, to fall in refreshing rains on the earth; from there it flows to lakes and rivers and oceans, only to be drawn back up to the clouds. Plants take in carbon dioxide and return oxygen to the air for us to breathe. Everything seems to have its place in the grand scheme of taking to give—everything but the selfish heart of humanity.

Could it be that the core of sin is living for oneself? Might sin be in its very nature a rebellion against the laws by which the universe was created to operate?[7] Then might the nature of the consequences of sin be seen in the results of disregarding other laws? Could one part of the great spectrum of Law illustrate the certainty of the operation of another part?

To be sure, as we compare the workings of various types of laws, we see marked differences in the time required to get results. For example, the consequence of stepping off the edge of Cold Shivers Point in the Colorado National Monument could be seen at the bottom of the canyon in a matter of seconds—governed by the rate of acceleration at thirty-two feet per second per second. The exact time could be figured precisely if we knew the distance of the drop at that point. Such is the nature of the laws of physics.[8]

On the other hand, a festering hatred for my neighbor might manifest itself only in ulcers or shingles or in another of several stress-related illnesses. But does anyone know how sin intrinsically changes us, what it actually does to the human organism, leading eventually to death? Obviously, it’s not nearly so quick or dramatic as falling from a precipice, but it’s no less sure. The spiritual domain is virtually invisible, so God pronounced the curse on the ground—whatever degradation that encompassed in the natural world—“for man’s sake” (Genesis 8:21). Long a puzzlement to me, I have come to see that one reason God allowed “the curse” was so we would realize that something is wrong here and understand we do have a mortal enemy! Animals hunt and eat each other; worse, people stalk and torture each other, kill, and maim. Wars and diseases ravage civilizations; pests, poisons, parasites, and problems of every description take their toll. But does it have to be this bad?

Yet, it’s all a result of sin—the general condition of the planet or of specific sins committed. Ruin is the sure end. Sometimes risky behavior brings a swift result; sometimes the “reward” is a long time coming. The important lesson is that it will come. Neither moral law nor the laws of nature can be ignored with impunity.

Scripture declares, “Sin is transgression of the law” (1 John 3:4). Often, the statement is simplified: “Sin is breaking the law.” But is that accurate? Could the oversimplification be misunderstood to refer to a mere breaking of rules? Is it fair to equate God’s laws with human rules, which sometimes are arbitrary?

The New Living Translation reads: “Those who sin are opposed to the law of God, for all sin opposes the law of God.” From The New Revised Version: “Everyone who commits sin is guilty of lawlessness; sin is lawlessness.” We get the picture of someone bent on doing his own thing, having his own way; determined to shake off all law, all responsibility, no matter what anyone says, in spite of whatever dire warnings received. Sin is an attitude, an inherent brokenness, the root of all the sinful things we do. It’s what we are. Sin is rebellion against the ultimate reality of Law.

But is it possible to truly break God’s Law? Could it be damaged, its reality altered, its operation stopped?

If we were to disregard gravity, for example, we would only illustrate it and prove its existence—breaking not the “law” itself, but ourselves at the bottom of the cliff. (Or would God supernaturally intervene to make sure we were punished by death for carelessness on such a high edge?) Assuming physical law can teach us about spiritual law, can a rebel really break any part of the great spectrum? Even the moral law? Or does it remain untouched, despite anything I do? Could anything I say destroy its power or its existence? Or in disregarding the law of love, am I myself changed for the worse?

Does the Law of cause/consequence that pertains to gravity apply also to love? If I put myself out of harmony with the way the universe runs, what is the only possible result?[9] Would eternal death, then, be a “punishment” meted out or a natural consequence of self-centered choices?[10]

What, then, is obedience? Cooperation with Law? Could obedience ever be blind, unthinking compliance with an arbitrary set of rules? Or is true obedience only whole-hearted cooperation with the way the universe was created to work, because we’re convinced it’s right?[11]

But we’re still stuck here on earth with the law of gravity—and all the other laws with which we have a hard time living. Disregarding them lands us in the grave. O, wretched souls that we are! Who shall deliver us from this bondage of death?[12] The good news is grace—illustrated by the laws of aerodynamics. Aerodynamics doesn’t do away with gravity but operates with and counterbalances gravity, providing the possibility of flight!

In the spiritual realm, Christ has made a way of escape for us. He offers to write the law of love in our hearts—the law of hatred against sin,[13] if you will—so that we can love what he loves and hate what he hates. He heals us from the consequences of having been born on this rogue planet and involved with its plague of sin and gives us the gift of eternal life with him.

“Why then the law?” (Galatians 3:19) Paul asked. Solomon could have told him: It’s how things work, how the universe was designed to operate. Why was it ever spelled out in the Bible as rules? Because God wants to keep us safe while we’re learning to do the right things for the right reasons. Sooner or later, cause is followed by consequence. Because the universe we live in is orderly, doing right is always safer than doing wrong, even though it’s not necessarily more righteous. Goodness is measured by motive, by loyalty to God and right. The heart is what God wants (Proverbs 3:1), and if the heart is right, the rest of the details—the behavior—will follow, sooner or later, or so it seems to me.

In the hereafter, we will explore with him the marvels of his creation—both in tangible and intangible realms, always finding something new and wonderful to pursue. God will explain to us the great spectrum of Law in all its complexity. Maybe the order and harmony of God’s universe, the cycles of sharing, community, harmony, and mutual interdependence, represent his own great love. Maybe “Law” is a facet of who God is!

Do you suppose he might also give us better eyes for a wider “visible window”?

[1].  Proverbs 1:32 (GNB) “Inexperienced people die because they reject wisdom. Stupid people are destroyed by their own lack of concern.”

Proverbs 11:5 (GNB) “Honesty makes a good man’s life easier, but a wicked man will cause his own downfall.”

Proverbs 11:17 (GNB) “You do yourself a favor when you are kind. If you are cruel, you only hurt yourself.”

[2].  To illustrate the power of God’s words to create, Jim figures the actual amount of matter that exploded in the first atomic bombs by inverting the famous equation E=mc^2. The same mass of any kind of matter would release the same amount of energy if we could unlock the bonds in the nuclei of the atoms. In its atomic bonds [not to be confused with the energy in molecular bonds, which is released in digestion], a loaf of bread has the equivalent of more than 550 nuclear bombs. Since matter and energy are interchangeable, the power released is equal to the power involved in the original creation—which was accomplished by the word of God.

And of course, the power of that word is encapsulated for us in the Bible. As we read it, accept its commands, and believe its promises, God can do great things for us. Through the Bible, God infuses us with his very life; and our natures are transformed into his image. Applied: How am I tapping into the enabling power of God today through his written Word? This is another example of the relationship between the spiritual and material worlds—or so it seems to me.

[3].  On a linear scale, when we go from 1 to 2, we have added one—the same ratio as when we have gone from 5 to 6. But on a true logarithmic scale, when we go from 1 to 2 (or from 5 to 6) we have multiplied by 10. The Richter Scale for measuring earthquakes is a logarithmic scale, with a 6 being 10 times worse than a 5—and a hundred times worse than a 4. Applying this comparison to the electromagnetic spectrum, Jim translated it from a 10-inch logarithmic scale to a linear scale that stretched 3,000 miles.

[4].  The “ends” of the spectrum are not precise. One estimate for the width of the electromagnetic spectrum in Hertz (cycles per second) is 10^25 Hz. An estimate of the width of the visible window is 3.55 x 10^14 Hz. To calculate the width of the visible window if the model spectrum is 3,000 miles: divide 3.55 x 10^14 Hz by 10^25 Hz and multiply by 3,000 miles. When the result is changed into inches, it is about 7/1,000th of an inch.

[5].  Lewis Walton, The Lucifer Diary (Aralon Press, 1997), 16.

[6].  Ibid., 39. This imaginary conversation between God and the fallen Lucifer, written by an attorney, offers insight into universal law:

“If you have been watching carefully, you should realize by now that I have built a basic principle into everything that I have made. It is called the Principle of Return.

“Everything in my creation is designed to take only so that it can give again. Everything receives from the cosmic system whatever it needs for life; it then enriches, with its own creativity, what it has taken, and gives back to the system more than it took…. And that, my beloved Lucifer, is where you went wrong. You wanted the throne, but you did not have life inherent within you—life to send out through the fiery stones, life to energize the cosmos. You wanted more than you could give back…. It can’t be done. When you try, you introduce a horrifying imposter called death.”

[7].  Proverbs 19:3 (GNB): “Some people ruin themselves by their own stupid actions and then blame the Lord.”

[8].  Air resistance must also be considered, depending on altitude from sea level.

[9]  Romans 6:23 (GNB): “For sin pays its wage—death; but God’s free gift is eternal life in union with Christ Jesus our Lord.”

[10].  Galatians 6:7, 8 (GNB): “Do not deceive yourselves; no one makes a fool of God. A person will reap exactly what he plants. If he plants in the field of his natural desires, from it he will gather the harvest of death; if he plants in the field of the Spirit, from the Spirit he will gather the harvest of eternal life.”

[11].  Psalm 40:8 (KJV): “I delight to do thy will, O my God; yea, thy law is within my heart.” Psalm 119:97 (NIV): “Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long.” Hebrews 8:10 (GNB): “Now this is the covenant that I will make with the people of Israel in the days to come, says the Lord: I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts.”

[12].  See Romans 7:24.

[13].  See Genesis 3:15.

CHAPTER TEN

The Law: Love in Living Color

VIRGINIA DAVIDSON

ALL THINGS FOLLOW THE RULE OF NATURAL LAW—from gravity to brain waves, from the growth of an ice crystal to the birth of a baby, to the building of an oriole’s nest. And what is natural law but the law of God, the Creator of it all?

Fundamental Law is not a collection of arbitrary rules that can be changed or thrown out on a whim, as human laws often are. Law is a description of how things work—it’s the system of information by which the whole universe functions. Far from irrational or unpredictable, in “imposing” Law, God was thereby creating an orderly environment to allow for the greatest freedom possible. And law in the natural kingdom was designed not just to structure a support for life but also to illustrate how law operates in the spiritual realm.[1]

But the fundamental laws of the universe are not what most people have in mind when they think about “God’s use of law.” They’re more interested in the whys and wherefores of the laws and rules and commands in the Bible. The story is told of a man who wanted God to tell him what to do. Assuming the Bible to be a book of instruction and guidance, he decided to close his eyes and open the book at random, point to a verse, and do what it said. The first verse he saw when he opened his eyes, read: “Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.” Oh, dear! he sighed—that wasn’t what he had in mind! He tried again: “Go, and do thou likewise.” That didn’t work, either! One last time, he would close his eyes and point. Opening them, he read: “That thou doest, do quickly!”

Obviously, that’s not the ideal way to use the Bible. But how are we to understand directions such as those? How do we apply them? How do we use the Bible if it has commands that don’t work for us—such as, “Give strong drink to him who is perishing, and wine to him whose life is bitter”? (Proverbs 31:6, NASB). The construction of the sentence indicates its status as a command; should that be the basis for our next inner-city ministry? Or how do we interpret that verse?

Some see the Bible primarily as a casebook[2]—a collection of history lessons telling of God’s involvement with humanity, building evidence for trust, and showing us the principles of his government. With this approach, we realize the opportunity of leaning on God to learn the meaning of things. Likewise, the responsibility is ours to figure out how to apply his principles to our lives today, rather than depending on a religious authority to tell us what to do. Our relationship with God is nurtured, and the Bible is less of a club for beating up either ourselves or those around us—and more of a teacher of eternal truth.

But there is still the issue of the “codes”—“Do this” and “Don’t do that.” In fact, the Bible is full of commands—beginning in Genesis: “Be fruitful and multiply!” (Genesis 1:28, NET). To many people, Scripture is the ultimate “codebook,” telling us what to do and what not to do.[3]

The first five books, the Books of Moses, have been known for thousands of years as “The Law” (Matthew 7:12; 22:40).[4] In addition to the Ten Commandments, this “Pentateuch” contains health regulations (Leviticus 11:1; 16:34) and civil laws (Deuteronomy 22:1; 27:19) for preserving order in the fledgling government of the people of Israel. These laws were given to Israel with the promise that nations around them would see their superiority and exclaim, “‘What a great nation! So wise, so understanding! We’ve never seen anything like it.’ Yes. What other great nation has gods that are intimate with them the way God, our God, is with us, always ready to listen to us? And what other great nation has rules and regulations as good and fair…” (Deuteronomy 4:6-8, MSG).

The Pentateuch also includes rules of religious observance relating to the sanctuary—rituals and ceremonies and how they should be carried out (Leviticus 1:1; 7:38)—that point to the coming Messiah and his ministry of salvation (Luke 24:27, 44; John 1:45). These ceremonial and civil laws can be interesting and instructive as we look for deeper meaning and foundational principles, even though we don’t live by the letter of those laws today. And even though the issue of health continues to be important, many of the specific rules given to Israel do not apply to us,[5] given our differing circumstances in modern times.

The Ten Commandments are often considered the preeminent code because they were written by God’s own finger on tablets of stone (Exodus 31:18). Yet even the Ten Commandments can be a source of controversy. Paul spoke to both ends of the spectrum of how we relate to the law. Some want to throw out the law, declaring their freedom. They reason that Jesus has liberated us from the law, so we don’t need it anymore![6] To which Paul replies, What? “Do we then make void the law through faith? God forbid!—yea, we establish the law!” (Romans 3:31, KJV). “If the Law had not said, ‘Do not desire what belongs to someone else,’ I would not have known such a desire” (Romans 7:7, GNB)—it’s the law that instructs us on right and wrong! The law was added because of transgression (Galatians 3:19), because we needed it; the law was designed to be the “child leader” (Galatians 3:24, 25)[7] to keep us safe while we are learning how to live free!

Paul reminds us that it’s possible, in our freedom, to make choices that destroy that freedom[8]—choices that destroy us and any freedom to choose again—and better—next time. We could also misuse our freedom to scrap and fight with each other and demolish our fellowship entirely.[9] Paul cautions us not to do that—it’s not what freedom is for. Grace has freed us to love—which, incidentally, is the hardest command to obey![10] Grace enables us to serve, to grow in our understanding, and to mature in our likeness to God. But we can’t throw out the law in the interest of grace!

On the other end of the spectrum, there are those who would die for the law—maybe even kill for the law?[11] Sometimes—yes, they do. Humanity has a long history of taking revealed commands and extrapolating them into more than they intended.[12] Consider, for example, the ancient directive not to boil a young goat in its mother’s milk (Exodus 23:19; 34:26; Deuteronomy 14:21). That was a common cult practice among the pagans around Israel,[13] and God warned his people against involvement in anything that would draw them into heathen worship. In their zeal to obey, the command became the basis for not mixing milk with meat of any kind—or even letting them touch in the kitchen or be cooked or served in the same vessels or eaten at the same meal. Is that what God wanted? Could the same question be asked regarding the hundreds of other rules people have invented to protect their observance of the law?

But just in case we point our finger too vigorously at Jews, we should recognize that Christians also have sometimes cultivated a penchant for strictness. Paul refers to them in Romans 14, and they’re still around today. “If careful is good, more-careful is better—just because it’s more careful!”[14] Paul says to welcome such people into our fellowship but not to argue with them—indicating that their “weaker faith” might not be able to handle the freedom we have found in Christ (Romans 14:1-3, 13-21).

Some details are a matter of what makes sense to you, what works for you, and not that God has commanded precisely how they are to be done. So if you have faith, have it to yourself; and happy is the man whose conscience doesn’t condemn him.[15]

But don’t impose your understanding and your conscience on the people around you, making things more strict than necessary.[16] Paul had hard words, for instance, regarding those who were pushing ceremonial circumcision in his day: “I wish the knife would slip, and they would castrate themselves!”[17] Ouch!

In reality, a list-based, rules-oriented religion is often fear-driven and self-centered. “What if I’m wrong?” “How good do I have to be?” “Am I ‘growing’ fast enough?” Such religion distracts our focus from the only One who can change us.[18] Instead, we gaze at ourselves and at “how we’re doing”—or we look at others to see how they’re doing. It’s easy to compare ourselves with people around us and either gloat or seethe, depending on how we measure up. Sometimes we even condemn them for not coming up to our standard. But when we focus on sins and problems and weaknesses—our own or anyone else’s—we will come to resemble more the behavior we are trying to avoid. It’s just how the mind works. We naturally will become like what we think about.[19]

Then why did God give us the Ten Commandment law the way he did—so many “don’ts,” over and over? The writer of Hebrews refers to the process by which we grow in our experience with God. The Greek word translated “chasten” in the KJV means “to treat as a child”: to discipline—to teach. The Message reads:

Don’t feel sorry for yourselves. Or have you forgotten how good parents treat children, and that God regards you as his children?

My dear child, don’t shrug off God’s discipline,

but don’t be crushed by it either.

It’s the child he loves that he disciplines;

the child he embraces, he also corrects.

God is educating you; that’s why you must never drop out. He’s treating you as dear children. This trouble you’re in isn’t punishment; it’s training, the normal experience of children. Only irresponsible parents leave children to fend for themselves. Would you prefer an irresponsible God? We respect our own parents for training and not spoiling us, so why not embrace God’s training so we can truly live?” (Hebrews 12:5-9, MSG).

We need to grow up. God helps us in various ways to grow and mature. Paul encourages people to become mature through practice[20] and through the study of truth.[21] Jesus also challenges us to maturity, which is the nature of the perfection to which he calls us in the Sermon on the Mount.[22]

The Law is an important part of our growing up. It gives us the baseline standard of behavior of how to relate to God and to each other, but it was never intended to provide a way of salvation. The Ten Commandments are a description of what God’s people will look like when his law of love is in their hearts, when they live in harmony with God. They will not kill, not steal, not commit adultery, not even want what belongs to someone else, and so on. Sometimes, it helps to know what a thing is not, in order to understand better what it is.[23]

But if  “not” is the primary ingredient we’re looking for in one’s character development, maybe we’re looking in the wrong place. Those who “don’t” do this and “don’t” do that, ever, could be buried in the cemetery! Corpses in the morgue or well-preserved cadavers never do anything bad! Of course, they never do anything good, either. But God had to spell things out—“don’t!”—to keep us relatively safe for long enough to grow up in our souls (Ephesians 4:14; Hebrews 5:12, 13; Matthew 5:48) and learn to do the right things for the right reasons.[24] He wants us to delight in his Law (Psalms 40:8; 119:97) and learn how to live free within its boundaries (Galatians 5:13-16). Merely doing the right thing isn’t God’s ultimate goal for us—he wants our hearts, our loyalty.[25] And when we trust him, he is well able fix whatever is wrong with us.

In learning to trust God, study Jesus; and let the knowledge of his life be the lens through which to interpret the rest of the Bible. How did Jesus live? How did he treat people? How did he relate to sinners and respond to those who despised and persecuted him? Jesus said he didn’t come to destroy the law but to magnify it and make it honorable! (Matthew 5:17; Isaiah 42:21). “I delight to do Thy will, O my God; yea, Thy law is within my heart” (Psalm 40:8; Jeremiah 31:33; Hebrews 10:16). He showed us in real time, with skin on it, what righteousness looks like.

Maybe a story from art class would help, too.[26] Tubes of artist’s paint tumbled in piles, filling my sketch box with names like Naples yellow, Cerulean blue, and gem-like Phthalocyanine green. Such potential! As my gaze caressed them, I could imagine wonderful art emerging from those tubes!

But then a shock: the teacher announced that black would not be allowed in the class. Further, we would be restricted to a “double primaries” palette[27]—only six tubes, plus white! I could hardly grasp the loss! How could I paint with such a pathetic handful of colors? And no black? Why? It was too harsh, she said. Shadow could be portrayed just as well and with more “life” using the deeper tones of a color’s opposite to shade it darker (red is the opposite of green on a color wheel). These six pigments should be adequate to mix whatever colors we wanted.

To my surprise, they worked! A number of paintings from that era still hang on my studio walls. Of any one of them, I could truthfully say there is no black at all. But a declaration of “no black,” while true and maybe interesting or useful, would be by itself a woefully inadequate description.

Imagine a grand weeping willow on a sunny lawn, its cool shadows facing you. In the painting, the tree nearly fills the canvas; the colors are brilliant, clear, almost alive! Intense sunlight bathes the distant lawn, streaking light also into the far side of the tree. But this just begins to describe the painting. We could talk about the varying hues of green portraying the levels of light and shadow, noting the streak of unmixed yellow that hints of the afternoon’s heat. Then there’s the tree in the original photograph, the preliminary charcoal tone study, the linen canvas and the odd sizes of wooden stretcher-bars, the favored brand of oil paints, and so on. All of that and more is true. And there’s no black. But there’s so much more than just “no black”!

The “new covenant” in the Bible is not a different law from the “old covenant”—it’s the agreement that has changed (Jeremiah 31:33; Hebrews 8:10-12). Instead of our promises to obey, it’s now based on God’s promise to write his law in our hearts so that we will love it as Jesus did (Ezekiel 36:26, 27; Psalm 40:8). The best way to know what God wants from us is to study the life of Jesus. Jesus showed us who God is (John 1:14, 18) and how to live the law to its fullest.[28] He modeled the empowerment of divinity combined with humanity—the law in our hearts and our best choices enabled by the indwelling Holy Spirit. This is the maturity Paul spoke of—the maturity of “perfection” that Jesus commanded (or is it a promise?) when he said, “You are to be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matthew 5:44, NASB).

When we are no longer spiritual children, even the Ten Commandments can be seen as not negative—less like a command and more like a promise, depending on where the emphasis is placed. “Others may murder, but not you; you won’t even hate your brother in your heart.” “Others may mess up their marriages, mixing in all kinds of adulterations that ruin its sacred purity and kill its love. But you won’t. With the law of love in your heart, you will respect and treasure your spouse,[29] turning the ‘curse’ of Genesis[30] into a blessing. You will rejoice in the wife of your youth, and let her charms continue to satisfy you!” (Proverbs 5:18, 19). “Others may stew in discontentment, but you won’t covet what you don’t have. You will be grateful for every blessing that comes to you from God’s hand” (1 Thessalonians 5:18; Hebrews 13:5; 1 Timothy 6:6).

In the light of eternity, the righteousness that emanates from the law contains “no black”—but it’s so much more than “no black”! It’s beauty of soul in a freedom that endures for eternity! It’s a potent life force that draws others into the same experience (Deuteronomy 4:5-8). It’s Love in Living Color!

[1].  This is the premise of the previous chapter, “The Great Spectrum of Law.”

[2].  Alden Thompson. Inspiration: Hard Questions, Honest Answers (Hagerstown, MD: Review and Herald Publishing Association, 1991).

[3].  In this “codebook approach” to Scripture, the issue is not so much whether to obey, but what to obey—and how.

[4].  Note Jesus’ reference to “the law and the prophets” as the two main divisions of the Scriptures of that time. Four other NT references to “the law and to the prophets” are recorded. Sometimes the OT was further divided into “the law and the prophets and the psalms” (see Luke 24:44).

[5].  While in modern times we don’t follow all the regulations of the health laws given to Israel, we do recognize the value of quarantine—preserving the health of the general populace by protecting it from the communicably ill. We have also followed Israel’s example in keeping the toxins of decomposing waste at a distance from our living spaces. Restricting one’s diet from unhealthful elements is another lesson learned from the Law of Moses.

[6].  This phenomenon is more a modern one than typical of the times of Paul. In his day, reacting to his preaching of grace, people were afraid he was doing away with the law! But no, he said, we need it; it’s good. We’re not throwing law out in the service of grace. Far from it: We’re installing it in our hearts! But today we can hear songs such as “Free from the Law,” as if that would be good. Paul wouldn’t think so.

“Free from the law, O happy condition,

Jesus has bled and there is remission,

Cursed by the law and bruised by the fall,

Grace hath redeemed us once for all.”

— Philip P. Bliss

[7].  The translation of “schoolmaster” in the KJV portrays an unfortunate picture—the head of a school, a teacher, a principal. The Greek meaning is that of an “attendant” (Goodspeed) or “governess” (Phillips), a slave who went with the children to school to make sure they arrived with no undue dalliance or trouble.

[8].  “Since we’re free in the freedom of God, can we do anything that comes to mind? Hardly. You know well enough from your own experience that there are some acts of so-called freedom that destroy freedom. Offer yourselves to sin, for instance, and it’s your last free act. But offer yourselves to the ways of God and the freedom never quits” (Romans 6:15-17, MSG).

[9].  “For you, brethren, were [indeed] called to freedom; only [do not let your] freedom be an incentive to your flesh and an opportunity or excuse [for selfishness], but through love you should serve one another. For the whole Law [concerning human relationships] is complied with in the one precept, You shall love your neighbor as [you do] yourself. But if you bite and devour one another [in partisan strife], be careful that you [and your whole fellowship] are not consumed by one another” (Galatians 5:13-15, AMP).

[10].  Not one of “the Ten,” the commandment to love is nevertheless foundational to all the commandments (Luke 10:27). Even still, Jesus told the disciples: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another” (John 13:34, ESV).

[11].  Jesus was rejected in part because of his efforts to free the law from the burdensome rules that were supposed to have protected it. Paul, also, was eventually killed after having been harassed and falsely accused by those who disagreed with him.

[12].  “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, pretenders (hypocrites)! For you give a tenth of your mint and dill and cummin, and have neglected and omitted the weightier (more important) matters of the Law—right and justice and mercy and fidelity. These you ought [particularly] to have done, without neglecting the others” (Matthew 23:23, 24, AMP); “You’re hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You keep meticulous account books, tithing on every nickel and dime you get, but on the meat of God’s Law, things like fairness and compassion and commitment—the absolute basics!—you carelessly take it or leave it. Careful bookkeeping is commendable, but the basics are required. Do you have any idea how silly you look, writing a life story that’s wrong from start to finish, nitpicking over commas and semicolons?” (Matthew 23:23, 24, MSG).

[13].  Much scholarly discussion occurs regarding the meaning of Exodus 23:19; 34:26, and Deuteronomy 14:21, and the possibility of a Ugarit text that mentions the pagan fertility-cult practice of boiling a kid in its mother’s milk. Rather than establishing kosher, God seems to be warning Israel away from involvement in paganism, by forbidding the gross use of a means of life and nurture—the mother’s milk—to contribute to death—the boiling of her baby.

[14].  This is the nature of ultraconservatism, of radicalism—no matter the faith or denomination.

[15].  “The faith which you have, have as your own conviction before God. Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves” (Romans 14:22, NASB).

“Cultivate your own relationship with God, but don’t impose it on others. You’re fortunate if your behavior and your belief are coherent” (Romans 14:22, MSG).

“For your part, you must keep the faith you have to yourself, as between God and you. He is a happy man who has no fault to find with himself in following the course that he approves” (Romans 14:22, Goodspeed).

[16].  In overstrictness—overstating God’s will—we focus on behavior to the exclusion of character, losing sight of the beauty of holiness and the One who is altogether lovely, the One who can actually empower our best choices. This gives the devil an advantage over us.

[17].  “As for those agitators, I wish they would go the whole way and emasculate themselves!” (Galatians 5:12, NIV). “Why don’t these agitators, obsessive as they are about circumcision, go all the way and castrate themselves!” (Galatians 5:12, MSG).

[18].  “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18, ESV).

[19].  “We are shaped and fashioned by the things we love.”—Goethe. “By beholding we become changed.”—Ellen G. White, Christ’s Object Lessons (Hagerstown, MD: Review and Herald Publishing Association, 2000), 355.

[20].  “But solid food is for the mature, who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil” (Hebrews 5:14, NASB).

[21].  “To be perfectly frank, I’m getting exasperated with your infantile thinking. How long before you grow up and use your head—your adult head? It’s all right to have a childlike unfamiliarity with evil; a simple no is all that’s needed there. But there’s far more to saying yes to something. Only mature and well-exercised intelligence can save you from falling into gullibility” (1 Corinthians 14:19, MSG, emphasis supplied).

“No prolonged infancies among us, please. We’ll not tolerate babes in the woods, small children who are an easy mark for impostors. God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and tell it in love—like Christ in everything. We take our lead from Christ, who is the source of everything we do. He keeps us in step with each other. His very breath and blood flow through us, nourishing us so that we will grow up healthy in God, robust in love” (Ephesians 4:13-15, MSG).

[22].  “You, therefore, must be perfect [growing into complete maturity of godliness in mind and character, having reached the proper height of virtue and integrity], as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48, AMP). “In a word, what I’m saying is, Grow up. You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you” (Matthew 5:48, MSG).

[23].  1 Corinthians 13:4-6. Note the “negatives” woven through the “positives” that describe love.

[24].  Psalm 51:10; Ezekiel 36:26; Proverbs 21:2. Our motives give character to our actions; why we do what we do is just as important as what we actually do.

[25].  The essence of righteousness is loyalty. Merely following orders from a sense of duty or obligation, grudgingly, leads eventually to hypocrisy or to outright rebellion. Right behavior can keep us out of trouble, but it doesn’t re-create us to be like God. That happens in the heart, from the inside out. See Romans 12:2.

[26].  Semiprivate art study with Ruth Zoerb, in Collegedale, Tennessee, 1975-1976.

[27].  A “double-primaries” palette is comprised of a warm and a cool tone of each of the primary pigments: red, yellow, and blue.

[28].  See Matthew 5:17, KJV and Goodspeed translation.

[29].  Ephesians 5:25-33: “Husbands, love your wives even as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself….”

[30].  Genesis 3:16: “You shall be devoted to your husband, while he shall rule over you.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Do You Fear God’s Justice?

BRAD COLE

Sadly, there are those who would have us love Christ for protecting us from God, instead of leading us to God—the one home of safety. They imagine justice and love dwelling in eternal opposition in the bosom of eternal unity.

—George MacDonald[1]

SEVERAL YEARS AGO I WAS ASKED to give a lecture on the subject of God’s love for sinners. The stories I chose to illustrate this point included Jesus’ treatment of the woman caught in adultery, his forgiveness toward Peter, and his act of washing the feet of Judas in the Upper Room. At the conclusion, a man in the audience rose to add something that he felt was missing. “It’s true that God is love, but don’t forget God’s justice. If God is infinitely loving, he must also be infinitely just—he must punish sin.”

What is God’s justice? Is it in some way separate and distinct from his love? Should we view the character of God like a two-sided coin—one full of love and mercy, while the other is best defined as justice?

I recently came across the following quote that expresses a common sentiment about God’s justice: “God is love, but God also punishes the sinner and hates all who do iniquity. God is not one sided. He is not simply an infinitely loving God. He is also infinitely just. He must deal with sin. He must punish the sinner.”

Many Christians today have come to equate God’s justice with being part of a legal framework that involves punishment for sin. We naturally tend to associate justice with our own criminal/legal system. Our contemporary society uses the slogan, “You do the crime, you do the time.” This implies that if you do the time, you’ve paid your debt to society, and justice has been satisfied.  For example, when George W. Bush said, “We will bring the terrorists to justice,” the meaning was clear to everyone that they would be punished appropriately for their crimes. But this understanding of the word justice does not represent the biblical meaning of “justice” and limits it to a legal offense that deserves an appropriate punishment. “Centuries of reading the Bible through the culturally dominant lens of punitive justice are hard to shake off. We read the word ‘justice’ in our Bibles and simply assume that it is referring to punitive justice.”[2]

God’s Justice in the Old Testament

As we turn to the Old Testament, God’s justice is described in a very different frame of reference than that of our modern legal-judicial system. To our surprise, we find that God’s justice is something that we would actually like to be on the receiving end of. For example, notice to whom God administers justice in this verse: “Defend the poor and fatherless; Do justice [tsadaq] to the afflicted and needy” (Psalm 82:3, NKJV). Here, the psalmist is obviously not suggesting that the afflicted and needy should be punished. Rather, his command is that we should help them. Justice, in this verse, refers to the actions of mercy and love.

The two main Hebrew words for justice are tsadaq (or tzedakah) and mizpat (or mishpat). By the context of how these words are used, let’s try to build a picture of the Hebrew concept of God’s justice.

Wash yourselves clean. Stop all this evil that I see you doing. Yes, stop doing evil and learn to do right. See that justice [mishpat] is done—help those who are oppressed, give orphans their rights, and defend widows. (Isaiah 1:16, 17, GNB).

The justice involved here is to do good to the outcasts of society by correcting the injustice that has been done to them. In fact, we will notice as a theme all the way through that God is not the one who uses violence when he administers justice. Rather, God’s justice is to compassionately intervene against the violent actions done by others.

This is what the LORD says to the dynasty of David: “Give justice [mishpat] each morning to the people you judge! Help those who have been robbed; rescue them from their oppressors.” (Jeremiah 21:12, NLT).

God’s justice is ultimately to do what is right and to make things right by exercising compassion toward those who have been treated unfairly.

The LORD is waiting to be kind to you. He rises to have compassion on you. The LORD is a God of justice [mishpat]. (Isaiah 30:18, GW).

Thus says the Lord GOD: “Enough, O princes of Israel! Remove violence and plundering, execute justice [mispat] and righteousness [tsadaq], and stop dispossessing my people,” says the Lord GOD. “You shall have honest scales…” (Ezekiel 45:9,10, NKJV).

God’s justice is to make things right by stopping violence, rather than by executing violence on others. Injustice is described as robbing, cheating, and mistreating people, while God’s justice is to begin treating people in fairness—the way God would treat them.

In this passage, “justice [mispat] and righteousness [tsadaq]” are used together. This occurrence is a frequent one in the Old Testament. The meaning does not contrast between righteous actions and just actions, but rather, these two words are complementary. Let’s consider the context: Abraham and his family were commanded “to do righteousness and justice” (Genesis 18:19, NKJV); “David administered justice and righteousness for all his people” (2 Samuel 8:15, NASB); Job “put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my justice was like a robe and a turban” (Job 24:19, NASB). Of God, it is said, “May he judge your people with righteousness, and your poor with justice” (Psalm 72:2, NRSV), and “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before you” (Psalm 89:14, NRSV). None of these examples involve an externally imposed punishment.

God’s command to us is to “act with justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor anyone who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place” (Jeremiah 22:3, NRSV). In countless examples, “justice” primarily involves the treatment of others, especially the poor, vulnerable, and outcasts of society:

Jewish kings were commanded to practice mishpat u’tzedakah. The literal translation of this term is “justice and righteousness” or “justice and charity.” Classical as well as modern commentators agree that this command does not refer to “courtroom justice and charity” but to social justice. The major wrongdoing to which the prophets objected was not the perversion of the judicial process, but oppression and exploitation of the poor by the political elite and the wealthy classes…. One modern political scientist wrote, “The   execution of righteousness and justice in the royal domain refers primarily to acts on behalf of the poor and less fortunate classes of the people.” This policy was implemented primarily by means of social legislation rather than by court judgments. The idea (or ideal) of social justice has a long history in Judaism.[3]

The Hebrew concept of justice, as manifested through acts of mercy and compassion toward the mistreated and outcasts of society, runs consistently throughout the entire Old Testament, beginning with the books of Moses: “He executes justice [misphat] for the orphan and the widow, and shows his love for the alien by giving him food and clothing” (Deuteronomy 10:18, NASB); “You shall not pervert the justice [mishpat] due an alien or an orphan, nor take a widow’s garment in pledge” (Deuteronomy 24:17, NASB).

In the Old Testament, to “bring justice” does not mean to bring punishment but to bring healing and reconciliation. Justice means to make things right by correcting injustice. Justice is ultimately an expression of mercy—it is God’s mercy in action. This mercy is described as a path that we are to follow—a way of life. “I walk the way of righteousness [tsadaq]; I follow the paths of justice [mishpat]” (Proverbs 8:20, GNB). This proverb is an example of Hebrew poetry, which is not based on rhyme but on repetition, where the second line of the verse adds meaning and depth to the first line. The path of justice, then, is the way of righteousness. Said another way, the path of justice is the path of right doing in an unjust world.[4] We are somewhat familiar with this kind of “making right” justice. When I justify my Word document, I am not punishing it but rather “aligning” or “making right” the document.

Throughout the Old Testament, we see God again and again calling his people to revolt against the self-promotional and often violent “dog-eat-dog,” survival-of-the-fittest principle, in which the stronger oppresses and feeds off the weaker. How are we to live in this world? “What does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? (Micah 6:8). Justice is something that we “do.” True justice requires making things right by manifesting the love of God through acts of loving-kindness and mercy.

The Hebrew concept of justice is not lost in today’s world. For Jewish people today, the word tsadaq (or tzedakah) is still associated with acts of charity and loving restoration. A number of Jewish charities, for example, are in some form named after this Hebrew word. This is beautiful, and it harmonizes perfectly with the Old Testament concept of justice.

Christianity too often emphasizes legal matters—such as getting the doctrines right, being in good legal standing with God, being covered with blood, and so on. A right conception of God’s justice, however, leads us to see that how we treat people is the most important Christian obligation of all, because “to do righteousness and justice is more acceptable to the LORD than sacrifice” (Proverbs 21:3, NRSV).

So once again, how does the Old Testament define God’s justice? “This is what the LORD of Armies says: ‘Administer real justice [mishpat], be compassionate and kind to each other’” (Zechariah 7:9, GW). God’s justice is a compassionate, kind, and loving intervention in a world full of great injustice.

What About Punishment?

Someone may be wondering at this point, “Isn’t this a bit one-sided? What about punishment?” The man who rebuked me with the words “God is love, but he is also just” went on to direct my attention to a long list of stories in the Bible, from the Flood to Sodom and Gomorrah and the lake of fire. He said, “Look! There is the justice of God! God is punishing them. If God does not punish sin, he is not a God of justice.”

We need to realize that events such as the Flood are a different subject from God’s justice. According to the Old Testament, God does not punish for the sake of satisfying his justice. In fact, there is compelling evidence that none of these dramatic interventions were for the sake of punishment.  For example, was the biblical Flood a punishment sent by God? Here’s how the Bible describes the setting for this event:

Noah had no faults and was the only good man of his time. He lived in fellowship with God, but everyone else was evil in God’s sight, and violence had spread everywhere. God looked at the world and saw that it was evil, for the people were all living evil lives. (Genesis 6:9-12, GNB).

And a few verses later, “The LORD said to Noah, ‘Go into the boat with your whole family; I have found that you are the only one in all the world who does what is right’” (Genesis 7:1, GNB). Noah was the only good man of his generation! Noah was the only man left who had a true knowledge of God. Is the Bible accurate in this statement, or is this exaggeration? Only one man? The statement must be accurate when we consider how many people got on that boat. If God had known that he had 10,000 friends during this time, wouldn’t he have had Noah build hundreds of boats to accommodate all those who trusted Noah’s warning? God knew that no one would respond. So in mercy, he asked Noah to preach a message to plead with the people over a very long period of time. Anyone was welcome on that boat. The ark was God’s means to prepare a way of safety.

Now, imagine what would have happened had God prevented the Flood. The last man with a real trusting relationship with God would have died, and the knowledge of God on earth would have been extinguished. Planet Earth would have lost contact with God entirely, and Satan would have won the cosmic conflict. We wouldn’t even be here today if God had not allowed the Flood to occur. All of the evidence that we have today about the kind of Person God is—primarily based on Jesus’ life and death on earth—had not yet been given. God rescued the last man, the last family, in order to preserve contact with Planet Earth.

The Flood is not an example of God punishing sin but rather, an example of God stepping in to preserve his people and ultimately the human race. Sin does a fine job of punishing all on its own; God doesn’t need to add to the pain. The Flood became a rescue mission to save the last man with a true knowledge of God, rather than an act of retributive punishment.

The story of Elisha and the bears is another example that makes us wonder if God is out to retributively punish for sin. Even though the prophet Elijah had just been taken up to heaven in spectacular chariots of fire, his successor, the prophet Elisha, received very little respect from the Israelites:

Some youths came from the city and mocked him, and said to him, “Go up, you baldhead! Go up, you baldhead!” So he turned around and looked at them, and pronounced a curse on them in the name of the Lord. And two female bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the youths. (2 Kings 2:23, 24, NKJV).

Did God feel that those young people crossed the line and needed to be punished? Again, what was the setting? If we turn back just one chapter in this book, we find that the king of Israel, who was considered the spiritual leader of the people, had fallen off his balcony. In his pain he consulted the god of Ekron rather than the God of Israel, to see if he would survive. Even the king was worshiping other gods! These youths were aware of Elijah’s spectacular translation into heaven, yet they remained completely unmoved by this event and even mocked Elijah’s successor, “Hey, you go up with Elijah too, baldhead!”

Once again, this is not an example of God punishing teenagers because they went too far. Rather, by allowing this severe incident to take place, God protected Israel by preserving the necessary respect for his prophet. Perhaps it’s worth noting that Elisha was never threatened again and God was able to use Elisha to do great miracles for his people in a dark world.

Then there is the story of Uzzah touching the ark. Did God intervene because the severity of the sin required capital punishment? Was Uzzah’s mistake of reaching out to steady the ark greater than that of a mass murderer? Here we see that God does not go around punishing people based on the severity of the sin. If he did, then child molesters (not Uzzah) would be dropping dead left and right. Rather, in love for his people, God desperately tried to get an important message to King David, who was given the charge to bring Israel closer to God. Indeed, David understood that the Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of God’s power,[5] was to be treated with respect and reverence. David had acted carelessly by not following the instructions God had laid out for transporting the Ark. What effect did it have on the nation of Israel when they watched their king blatantly disregard God’s commands? God’s intervention was not designed to punish Uzzah; rather, it was for the purpose of restoring respect for God in Israel. Without respect for God, the Israelites would have drifted away from God.

Undoubtedly, stories such as this are some of the most difficult in the entire Bible; but there is consolation in the thought that one day God will resurrect Uzzah, who will have the same train of thought, character, and ability to respond to truth and evidence. Nowhere does it say that Uzzah will not be part of God’s kingdom. That is between Uzzah and God.

Sometimes, we don’t put all the pieces of a particular Bible story together—and, therefore, misinterpret it.  For example, when we read that God “punished” Moses for striking the rock by not allowing him to enter the Promised Land (Numbers 20:12), we may be inclined to paint a gloomy picture of God in our minds. All we would know of this story from reading the Old Testament is that God ended the life of his friend Moses, who, at the time of his death, “was as strong as ever, and his eyesight was still good” (Deuteronomy 34:7, GNB). From a limited perspective, it seems unfair. When we discover “the rest of the story,” however, we realize that God fought against Satan to resurrect Moses (Jude 1:9) and later gave Moses the great honor of encouraging Jesus prior to his crucifixion (Matthew 17:4). For Uzzah, as well as for Moses, there is a “rest of the story.”

The extreme examples of God’s interventions in the Old Testament are not for the sake of punishment but rather because of the desperate nature of the situation. Biblical stories such as this do not fit under the umbrella definition of  “God’s justice.” God was just, in the sense that he did the right thing; but these crisis interventions are not what the Bible is referring to when it talks about God’s justice.

Justice That Does Involve “Punishment”

Still, there is a discipline from God (sometimes referred to as a punishment) that any parent can identify with. When one’s 13-year-old son is misusing the Internet, a loving parent may “punish” by taking away Internet privileges for a period of time. This does not represent a retributive action merely for purpose of inflicting pain; rather, it springs from the worthy motive of leading him in the right direction and away from danger. The purpose is for discipline and healing. Like a loving parent, God’s actions are never retributive and simply for the sake of punishment. “I will discipline you, but with justice; I cannot let you go unpunished” (Jeremiah 30:11, NLT). God’s actions always spring from love and are for the purpose of healing and restoration.

God’s justice toward the outcasts of society at times involves actively preventing abuse to continue. This sometimes involves restraining evil-doers in order to protect the innocent. Some have suggested, however, that mere restraint doesn’t go far enough: “If God does not painfully punish Hitler, child molesters, and rapists before executing them, he does not deserve my respect.”

This view, however, does not appreciate the intrinsic result of sin, which is pain, suffering, and death. When Hitler comes face-to-face with God someday, he will experience inestimable suffering, but this will be caused by the natural consequence of being completely out of harmony with God’s character of love—no extrinsic penalty imposed by God will be necessary.[6]

God was apparently able to win the heart of wicked King Manasseh, who was somewhat of an ancient Hitler. Manasseh sacrificed his own son by fire (2 Kings 21:6), sawed the prophet Isaiah in half in a hollow log,[7] and “murdered many innocent people until Jerusalem was filled from one end to the other with innocent blood” (2 Kings 21:16, NLT). Even though Manasseh repented prior to his death, he most certainly experienced much suffering in his conversion. How much more suffering will there be for a person like Hitler, who chose to persist in his rebellion against God? Suffering? Yes, but not retributive on God’s part—no legal balancing of ledgers or evening out the final score:

Whereas the suffering involved in a reconciliation is almost infinitely intensified, it is never, when we stand inside the Gospel, retributive suffering. Suffering there is in plenty…. If [a person] has committed an offence, he cannot be restored to fellowship until he has accepted the pain of responsibility for his offence and (so far as possible) made reparation. Anything less would be a diminution of his personality. To demand less would not be “grace”; it would be insult. But his responsibility is not to some abstract system of justice: it is to God and to his fellow-men. That, and nothing abstract or sub-personal, is the measure of his responsibility. On the side of the injured party—who ultimately is God himself—the suffering of forgiveness is boundless. This, too, is the cost involved in the structure of personal relationship, as God has created it. But, on both sides, the suffering is creative and restorative and healing, not in obedience not to abstract laws of justice but to the demands of the living organism of persons which is most characteristically represented by the Body of Christ.[8]

Sin Pays the Wage

Whether we are won to God’s side, like Manasseh, or whether we remain hardened against God, sin leaves a punishing scar that carries its own inherent penalty:

You have brought this on yourself by abandoning the LORD your God when he led you on his way…. Your own wickedness will correct you, and your unfaithful ways will punish you. You should know and see how evil and bitter it is for you if you abandon the LORD your God. (Jeremiah 2:17-19, GNB).

Judah, you have brought this on yourself by the way you have lived and by the things you have done. Your sin has caused this suffering; it has stabbed you through the heart. (Jeremiah 4:18, GNB).

See how wicked people think up evil; they plan trouble and practice deception. But in the traps they set for others, they themselves get caught. So they are punished by their own evil and are hurt by their own violence. I thank the LORD for his justice; I sing praises to the LORD, the Most High. (Psalms 7:14-17, GNB).

God describes even the final death of Satan as a destructive process that comes from within:

You defiled your sanctuaries with your many sins and your dishonest trade. So I brought fire out from within you, and it consumed you. I reduced you to ashes on the ground in the sight of all who were watching. (Ezekiel 28:18, NLT).

Our God is not like a stern judge who is waiting to inflict a painful sentence. He is instead more like a physician waiting to heal his sick patients who are infected with selfishness, pride, jealousy, and hate, as well as a host of other spiritual maladies.

Imagine that you see a physician for a cough and fever. After examining you and running some tests, including maybe a chest x-ray, the doctor diagnoses you with pneumonia and informs you that antibiotics are necessary to cure this condition. Now, let’s suppose you get home and refuse to take them. Does the doctor need to sneak into your home at night to worsen your pneumonia (because he is angry with you), or does the pneumonia do its own punishing? Similarly, if you refuse to brush your teeth, do offended dentists insert additional cavities into your teeth; or did your lack of brushing directly cause the cavities?

The Bible tells us that sin carries its own punishment and ultimately leads to death. “For sin pays its wage—death” (Romans 6:23, GNB). The biblical concept of God’s justice has nothing to do with God adding on additional pain to settle the score. Eugene Peterson’s The Message beautifully captures the meaning of Jesus’ words:

Don’t pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults—unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. (Matthew 7:1, 2, MSG).

Lightning bolts don’t come from heaven when we sin; rather, sin boomerangs.

Justice—Jesus’ Style

The Old Testament definition of God’s justice as compassionate intervention in this world does not suddenly change in the New Testament. Unfortunately, we often fail to rely on the Old Testament as a basis for understanding God’s justice in the New. Instead, we apply our modern-day understanding of courtroom justice and interpret any New Testament reference to justice predominantly in legal terms: Quid-pro-quo payback justice, retributive justice, legal justice, and justice that primarily involves an imposed, painful penalty and a punishment that fits the crime.

The beauty of the Bible is that it is internally consistent on the subject; we can use both Testaments to define and explain God’s justice. Notice that Jesus’ repeated rebuke to the Pharisees was that, even though they were religious outwardly, they were not merciful and kind to the outcasts of society.

How terrible for you, teachers of the Law and Pharisees! You hypocrites! You give to God one tenth even of the seasoning herbs, such as mint and dill, but you neglect to obey the really important teachings of the Law, such as justice and mercy and honesty. These you should practice, without neglecting the others. (Matthew 23:23, GNB).

Here we see that the New Testament definition of justice is the exact same concept we saw in the Old: “You are dealing unjustly with others. Why don’t you practice mercy and compassion to those around you? That is what God is really after. God would much rather have you treat others with love than to spend so much time tithing your herbs and spices.”

As we return to the story of the woman caught in adultery, who was “unjust” in that story? Was it not the self-righteous religious leaders who entrapped her as a test for Jesus? Unjust people hypocritically sat as judges and as moral authority over this poor woman who was to be stoned to death. Jesus, on the other hand, administered God’s restorative justice and mercy by defending and protecting the person who was being abused and mistreated.

Jesus’ concept of justice calls us to love and defend the victims of our society, such as this woman. Even his call for repentance (“Go and sin no more!”) was uttered with kindness and was designed to motivate this woman to a way of living that was not self-destructive. This is the kind of justice the Messiah came to bring, as described prophetically in the book of Isaiah and quoted here in Matthew 12:

Here is my servant whom I have chosen, the one I love, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations. He will not quarrel or cry out; no one will hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he leads justice to victory. (Matthew 12:18-20, NLT).

Jesus came to bring real justice by healing the sick, the blind, and the deaf. In the person of Jesus, God’s justice came to make things right by eating with sinners and tax collectors. God’s justice fed 5,000 hungry people. God’s justice said to the common people who had been oppressed by a group of tyrannical and arrogant religious leaders, “Blessed are the meek—for they will inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5, NKJV).

Unfortunately, this kind of justice was not at all what the people of the day were hoping for in their Messiah. They wanted a conquering hero who would punish their enemies. They despised his compassionate treatment of lepers and were angered by his acts of mercy, such as healing a poor man with a withered hand on the Sabbath. They despised the riff-raff of society with whom Jesus ate and associated. They refused to acknowledge a King who chose a group of fishermen to be his disciples. They despised the kind of justice that Jesus came to bring, so they nailed him to a cross.

The Cross...

Who exhibited violence and injustice at the Cross? At the Cross, we see no violence, no punishment coming directly from the hand of God. Who was it that exhibited violence at the Cross? What we see at the Cross is humanity, represented by a mob of religious yet violent murderers, torturing the Son of God to death.

By our understanding of justice, would not the innocent Jesus have been justified to call down fire from heaven on the guilty people who brought him to a sham trial and then cruelly mocked him? Instead, what we see at the Cross is the innocent Son of God saying: “Father, forgive them.” This returning of love and kindness in the face of our hatred is the radical restorative justice of God. At the Cross, our desire for punishment, our violence, and our hatred were replaced by God’s forgiveness, God’s nonviolence, and God’s love. God’s justice is restorative and healing, not retributive.

While retributive justice seeks to fit the punishment to the crime, attempting to control wrongdoing through punishment, restorative justice forgives the crime and seeks to redeem wrongdoing through a repairing of the relationship…. At the Cross we see God  turning away the opportunity to exact retributive justice and the demand for retribution, and instead God would choose to forgive. At the Cross we come face to face with the shameful depravity of our own sin by coming face to face with the One who has the right and the power to punish but who instead loves and forgives…. In the face of human hatred   and hardness of heart, God still managed to redeem.[9]

Returning violence and hatred with forgiveness and love does not often fit into our paradigm of justice, but thankfully, our God is much bigger and much better than we can possibly imagine him to be! At the Cross we see the union of love and justice, but not in the way it is usually understood. The Cross was the outpouring of God’s love as an act of restorative “making things right” justice, not punitive or retributive justice. “Love is not in conflict with justice, love is how justice comes about, because the New Testament understanding of justice is ultimately not about punishment but about making things right again.”[10]

[1].  George MacDonald. Michael Phillips, ed. Discovering the Character of God  (Ada, MI: Bethany House Publishers, 1989), 268.

[2].  Derek Flood, Healing the Gospel (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2012), 9.

[3].  Frank Loewenberg. From Charity to Social Justice (Piscataway, NJ: Transaction Publishers, 2001), 159.

[4].  See also Proverbs 2:8, 9.

[5].  See 2 Chronicles 6:41; Psalm 78:61; Psalm 132:8.

[6].  The book of Revelation describes the demonic as the forces that are involved in the torture and suffering of the wicked. See Revelation 9:5-11.

[7].  “Ta’rikh,” ed. De Goeje, i. 644.

[8].  C. F. D. Moule. Stricken By God? Brad Jersak and Michael Hardin, eds. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2007), 266.

[9].  Sharon Baker, Stricken By God? Brad Jersak and Michael Hardin, eds. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2007), 234, 235.

[10].  Flood, Healing the Gospel, 7.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Spiritual Astigmatism

SCOTT BENNETT

I’VE HAD ASTIGMATISM ALL MY LIFE; but since I could always squint and score 20/20 on my vision tests, I thought my vision was normal. Everything changed when I turned 42. After an appointment with the eye doctor, I came home with two sets of glasses—one for reading and one for driving! Wow! Everything was so sharp. Suddenly, I could see road signs far in the distance, and people thirty feet away actually had features.

An instant paradigm shift: I’ve had bad vision all my life! I played baseball, basketball, and tennis. I skied, drag-raced, played pool, bowled, and tossed horseshoes. I even hunted and still didn’t recognize that my vision was skewed. I thought everyone saw just as I did. I thought I was normal. Now, to my amazement, I realized that I’d been groping around in a fuzzy world that didn’t exist. Everything was now crisp and the colors were bright.

What is really amazing is how well I had adapted to my personal out-of-focus world. I did well playing ball, darts, pool, shuffleboard, and even ping-pong. No one knew. I could squint and navigate my way around a new city and even thread a needle. I was a success—but totally missing the full joy of light, colors, and shapes.

Now I’m a glasses convert! I’m born again! I’m a new man in glasses! My eyes have been opened to a whole new world of clarity that I didn’t even know existed. I’m even hoping, someday, to gain enough confidence to try contacts. I’m sure you’ve read the title of this chapter and know where my little life parable is going, but my hope is to bring you more than a new insight. My hope is to give us a new world to live in, a new perspective on our old life, and a new grasp of the very Bible that many claim to believe in.

Old Testament Astigmatism

But their minds were blinded. For until this day the same veil remains unlifted in the reading of the Old Testament, because the veil is taken away in Christ. But even to this day, when Moses is read, a veil lies on their heart. Nevertheless when one turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. (2 Corinthians 3:14-16, emphasis supplied).[1]

What kind of glasses does it take to remove the blindness of those reading the Old Testament? Jesus glasses! What is spiritual blindness? Is it similar to physical blindness, in the sense that things are out there that we simply can’t see? Or could it be that things out there are fuzzy because we can’t see them clearly? Either way, there is something keeping us from a clear understanding.

In 2 Corinthians 3, Paul is dealing with a very specific form of spiritual blindness. He asserts that the Jews couldn’t understand the Old Testament. In fact, in the Scriptures they saw God giving Israel a mighty anointed king who would free them from Roman bondage, set them above all kingdoms of this earth, exalt their nation, and make slaves of their enemies. Jesus, on the other hand, read the same ancient Scriptures and saw a new King for mankind who would gain victory over the real enemy, Satan and sin, and set humanity free from spiritual bondage. He saw the true Kingdom of God as serving our enemies at the sacrifice of self in order to reveal God’s loving character. And he told his followers to become servants themselves, so that others might join this new Kingdom.

How could they have misread their Old Testament so badly? What would “Jesus glasses” reveal to them about the real purpose of the Old Testament? Right after Jesus’ resurrection, a couple of very upset believers were taking a several-hour walk to Emmaus, a little town near Jerusalem, and Jesus stealthily joined them.

Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him. He asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?” They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, “Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?” (Luke 24:13-18).

I’m always amazed at the sense of humor in Jesus’ answer: “What things?” he asked.

“About Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied. “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.

“And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.” (Luke 24:20-24).

What? They had “hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.” Hadn’t Jesus just redeemed Israel at the Cross? Hadn’t Jesus defeated Satan’s lies with his life and death and defeated the power of death on resurrection morning? Hadn’t he ascended to heaven to receive all power and authority as the new King of humanity in the place of our natural father, Adam? Hadn’t Jesus defeated the power of sin and given everyone a chance to choose again who they preferred as ruler in their life, Jesus or Satan, thereby giving humanity another chance? Hadn’t Jesus redeemed Israel? So what were his followers looking for in the Messiah that Jesus failed to do? What were they missing—what couldn’t they see?

Now the glasses! Jesus gave them a new paradigm for interpreting all of Scripture. He gave Scripture new meaning and a better purpose than anyone had imagined.

He said to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself. (Luke 24:25-27).

Wait a minute, Jesus! Aren’t you exaggerating a little? Are you saying that all the prophets, starting with Moses, in all of the Scriptures, told about your suffering and entering into glory? Are you saying that they all spoke of your incarnation, life, cross, death, resurrection, and ascension? We thought that they spoke of an earthly kingdom—earthly freedom from our earthly enemies, freedom from a physical foe and from a physical bondage. We thought Israel consisted of the physical children of Abraham. We thought that the Holy Land was a location on the east end of the Mediterranean Sea. We thought that in order to destroy our enemies, we had to murder them rather than to radically love them and pray for them. We thought we should be washing your feet rather than you washing ours.

Even before these two men knew who it was that walked with them, they had received new glasses with which to read the Old Testament: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?” (Luke 24:32).

In another place and time, when talking to men who had memorized much of the Tanach (Old Testament), Jesus asked them: “Have you never read in the Scriptures: ‘The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone; the Lord has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes’ ” (Matthew 21:42).

How arrogant, Jesus! How can you apply the Scriptures to yourself? Who gives you the authority to wither fig trees, cast out demons, heal the sick, blind, and lame, tell men to pick up their bed and walk on Sabbath, and allow children to throw palm fronds in front of your donkey and sing praises to the Son of David as you enter Jerusalem? What gives you the right to interpret Scripture differently than those of us who have spent our lives studying God’s Word? Jesus’ only answer is found in John 5:39, 40: “You diligently study the Scriptures because you think that by them you possess eternal life. These are the Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life” (emphasis supplied).

Is eternal life found in the Scriptures? Is eternal life found in diligent study of the Scriptures? Or are the Scriptures God’s objective prophetic evidence that Jesus is the Anointed One whom God promised to send to rescue the human race by crushing the head of the serpent (Genesis 3:15)? Can we see behind the veil without Christ in the equation? Can we interpret history or understand prophecy correctly without Jesus glasses?

Jesus Glasses

The next question is obvious. How did Jesus view the Old Testament Scriptures? After being healed of blindness from birth, the man praised God and gave Jesus all the credit. His neighbors couldn’t believe their ears and took the healed man to the Pharisees, who questioned him. After listening to the ex-blind man’s story, the Pharisees “hurled insults at him and said, ‘You are this fellow’s disciple! We are disciples of Moses! We know that God spoke to Moses, but as for this fellow, we don’t even know where he comes from’” (John 9:28, 29).

Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, and when he found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” “Who is he, sir?” the man asked. “Tell me so that I may believe in him.” Jesus said, “You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.” Then the man said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him. Jesus said, “For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.” (John 9:35-39).

Jesus saw the authority of Scripture as supporting evidence that he was the promised Messiah. Jesus is the one who brings judgment into this world. The truth blazing from Jesus blinds those who will not see and heals the blind who desire with all their heart to see. And what does Jesus reveal? What did Jesus spend his life talking about? What was the Good News that Jesus gave his life to tell? The Good News about his Father! Jesus provided spiritual glasses with which to see the Father.

Eyes That Can See What?

As a confession to my age, I remember the first time I saw a color television. As crude as it was by today’s standards, it was awesome! I’d been raised with black and white, and to suddenly see things moving in living color brought TV enjoyment to a whole new level. I had to own one of those color sets.

What was the difference between black and white and color TV? Light! Light is interesting science. Without it, we can’t see! Even the bright colors we enjoy in the green grass, blue sky, and delicate flowers are not in the objects themselves but in the light that shines on them. Take away the light, and the colors fade as well. All colors we enjoy exist in light itself. The object it shines on absorbs all the colors in the light except for the ones you see. That color is reflected by the object, and your eye picks up only the reflected color in the light.

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). When that was written, more than 2,000 years ago, humanity didn’t understand the science of light as well as we do today; but God understood it much better. Jesus claimed to be the light who lights every person’s life. In other words, before Jesus, the only reflections of light that we had were the prophets. They did their best to portray God’s character and his will to us, but they were like looking into a foggy mirror. The apostle Paul talks about Christian understanding in the metaphor of growing up. He compares being a child with “looking in a dark mirror” until we come face to face with Jesus.

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known. (1 Corinthians 13:11, 12).

But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord. (2 Corinthians 3:18).

The transformation Paul is talking about is growing up in Christ through the Holy Spirit. First, we are like children who don’t see things clearly; but as we spend time contemplating God’s love as seen in Jesus—face to face—we begin to reflect his glory, and his character is mirrored in us.

The context of these verses explains the problem of spiritual blindness.

But their minds were blinded. For until this day the same veil remains unlifted in the reading of the Old Testament, because the veil is taken away in Christ. But even to this day, when Moses is read, a veil lies on their heart.

Nevertheless when one turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord. (2 Corinthians 3:14-18).

One of the veils that keeps us from maturing as Christians is reading the Old Testament without the revelation of Christ. That veil is removed by turning to our Lord, by coming face to face with Jesus, and by realizing that he is the full revelation of God’s character. In that process, we experience the kiss of God’s love; and the closer we come to him, the more we become like him.

The author of the book of Hebrews presents Jesus through the imagery of the earthly tabernacle. He states that Jesus offered himself and with his own blood entered the true tabernacle and sat down at the right hand of God (Hebrews 10:11). Then he claims that we can follow Jesus right into God’s presence with boldness, through the veil that separated the Holy from the Most Holy, because Jesus has led the way back to the Father. The book of Hebrews claims that we can be face to face with both Jesus and the Father. And what is the result of this new position—sitting at the right hand of the Father, in Christ, looking into the face of God?

Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching. (Hebrews 10:22-25).

Christian maturity! This is what a grown-up Christian looks like in the mirror. When the glass is clean and the light is turned on, the mature Christian sees a God who is just like Jesus in character. These are they who have eyes to see and new hearts created by God’s Spirit.

The Light of the World

“You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). Jesus also claims to be the light of the world. The apostle John calls him “the true light that gives light to every man” (John 1:9). Jesus tells us that whoever follows him will “never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). But Jesus’ light only blazed for thirty-three and a half years, and that light was extinguished on the Cross. Or was it? Look at Jesus’ words recorded in the book of John: “As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world” (John 9:4, 5, emphasis supplied).

According to Jesus, he was only the light of the world while he was here. His warning that night was a prophecy of his death; and John tells us that “light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19). So they tried to put out the light of life.

Since his physical ascension to heaven, Christ is in us; and we are now the light of the world, the “city built on a hill that cannot be hid” (Matthew 5:14). We are the church of God! We are the purpose for which Jesus came. We are the purpose of God from before time. Jesus’ light has shone on us and has left us with the task of lighting up this dark world so that others can see.

The Mystery Manifest

According to the eternal purpose which He accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Ephesians 3:11).

What is that eternal purpose that Christ accomplished? Look back one verse: “Now the manifold wisdom of God might be made known by the church to the principalities and powers in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 3:10, emphasis supplied).

The word manifold can tell us much about the Old Testament. When we read through Ephesians 3, we will find that this “manifold wisdom” is called the “mystery of Christ.” Paul says that this mystery has been hidden for ages and that it was not revealed to men in the past (Ephesians 3:5). But why call this mystery “the manifold wisdom of God”?

The word manifold means many folds, or multifaceted. Imagine looking at light flowing through a prism. Do you see all the different colors? All of those colors belong to the light and are fragments of it, but together the individual colors are simply bright light. This is how the Bible was written.

For example, the prophet Micah saw one sparkle of light from God’s prism and wrote: “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times” (Micah 5:2). The prophet Isaiah caught a different ray of light and prophesied: “Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14). Each one saw one small part of a whole, which remained a mystery. Peter was given this color from the light source:

Of this salvation the prophets have inquired and searched carefully, who prophesied of the grace that would come to you, searching what, or what manner of time, the Spirit of Christ who was in them was indicating when he testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ and the glories that would follow.

To them it was revealed that, not to themselves, but to us they were ministering the things which now have been reported to you through those who have preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven—things which angels desire to look into.

He indeed was foreordained before the foundation of the world, but was manifest in these last times for you who through Him believe in God, who raised Him from the dead and gave Him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God. (1 Peter 1:10-12, 20, 21, emphasis supplied).

Notice what Peter states was made known (made manifest) in Christ. These predictions that the prophets tried to understand and angels desired to look into were made “manifest…for you who through Him believe in God”…“so that your faith and hope are in God.”

Wasn’t God already the hope of the Jewish nation? Didn’t they claim that he was their God? Did the Messianic Old Testament prophecies simply point toward a God they already knew? Weren’t they the children of Israel, the followers of Moses, the promised seed of Abraham? Didn’t they have the law and the covenant? Why would God send Jesus down to lead them to put their “faith and hope in God”?

The problem was not that they lacked hope in God. The problem was that they didn’t know God’s character. Jesus came not to tell them that there was a God, for they certainly did not doubt his existence. Rather, God became a human to reveal exactly what he was like in character.

God, who at various times and in various ways spoke in time past to the fathers by the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us by His Son, whom He has appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the worlds; who being the brightness of His glory and the express image of His person. (Hebrews 1:1-3).

There you have it! God spoke to the prophets while Israel was young and immature. They were given one ray of light after another revealing the character of God and the promise of a Messiah who would come to light the earth with the glory of God. David said, “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path” (Psalm 119:105). If David lived in our time, he would have said, “Your word is a flashlight in the dark, a light on a mountain trail.” But in the morning, how bright does a lamp shine? Its beam is swallowed by the sun, and the very light that guided us down the dark mountain trail is stuck in our backpack as the forest is lit in glorious light. That is the meaning of Hebrews 1:1-3. The Old Testament prophets led us to Christ; but Christ, through the revelation of God’s love, tore down the veil that had separated us from God and took us right into the presence of God, right into the Holy of Holies, and sat us down with himself—face to face with the Father!

God spoke to us through the prophets; but in these last days, he speaks through his Son, whose glory swallows up all past revelations. This is precisely Paul’s point in 2 Corinthians 3:

But if the ministry of death, written and engraved on stones, was glorious, so that the children of Israel could not look steadily at the face of Moses because of the glory of his countenance, which glory was passing away, how will the ministry of the Spirit not be more glorious? For if the ministry of condemnation had glory, the ministry of righteousness exceeds much more in glory. For even what was made glorious had no glory in this respect, For if what is passing away was glorious, what remains is much more glorious. (2 Corinthians 3:7-11).

Please allow me to paraphrase this text into more easily understandable language, taking into consideration the rest of the chapter: If you think it was glorious when Moses went up Mt. Sinai to get the law (which points to our sin and condemns us), just wait until you see the Spirit work when he writes the law in our hearts. When Moses received the law and came off the mountain, his face shone so brightly from being in God’s presence that Israel feared and asked him to put on a veil, because they were afraid of God’s glory shining from Moses. But now that the Holy Spirit is poured out, God’s glory is seen as so much greater than the glory revealed through Moses. In fact, the glory God shared through Moses will pass away in the brilliant light of the glory that God presents in Jesus.

20/20 Vision

So how did Jesus make known what was hidden in the words of the prophets? What did Jesus show us about God that compares the written Word to milk that is good for “bottle-feeding baby Israel?” What is so glorious about Jesus that all the colors in the prism are swallowed up in his brightness?

Jesus spoke these words, lifted up His eyes to heaven, and said: “Father, the hour has come. Glorify Your Son, that Your Son also may glorify You, as You have given Him authority over all flesh, that He should give eternal life to as many as You have given Him. And this is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent. I have glorified You on the earth. I have finished the work which You have given Me to do.” (John 17:1-3, emphasis supplied).

Jesus made known the mystery that prophets and angels longed to understand—the manifold wisdom of God, the very glory of the Father—and introduced us to eternal life: “And this is life eternal, that they may know You, the only true God.”

Hebrews 1 calls Jesus “the brightness of his glory and the express image of His person,” so who better to introduce us to God? Jesus is the light and life of all men, because he is God, and only he could show us all about God. He could have sent someone to tell us; but just like the prophets, they could not have expressed God fully. And there is no way that someone else dying could have revealed God’s love and torn down every stronghold (the lies about God’s character) that Satan used to hold us captive.

I would like to end this chapter with a few verses in Ephesians. But before we read them, we must put on our Jesus glasses and see the Bible through his eyes! He has opened our eyes, healed our blindness, and we’ve now followed him right into the presence of his Father. We sit in heavenly places face to face with God when we look at Jesus.

But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. (Ephesians 2:4-10).

Now, therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, having been built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief cornerstone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you also are being built together for a dwelling place of God in the Spirit. (Ephesians 2:19-22).

A new reality, a new home, a new kingdom, and a new King! God’s graciousness has won our hearts and is now dynamically working in our lives, making us into a dwelling place, a spiritual temple, a heavenly sanctuary where he reigns supreme.

[1].  All Scriptures are taken from the New King James Version (NKJV). Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Life of Christ

MARCO BELMONTE

I have glorified you on the earth. I have finished the work which you have given me to do. And now, O Father, glorify me together with yourself, with the glory which I had with you before the world was. I have manifested your name to the men whom you have given me out of the world. They were yours, you gave them to me, and they have kept your word.

—John 17:4-6, NKJV, emphasis supplied.

ANY ATTEMPT AT ANALYZING THE life of Christ would be incomplete if not placed in the framework of these words spoken by Jesus to his Father hours before he faced his own execution. “I have finished the work.” What work? What was this work that Jesus came to complete? And if we are Jesus’ followers, would we not want to be involved in the same work that he was interested in completing? Fortunately, we don’t need to guess what “the work” was, because Christ himself went on to make it very clear: “I have manifested Your name.” “Name” is synonymous with character in the Bible, as reflected by Eugene Peterson’s The Message: “I spelled out your character in detail to the men and women you gave me.”

Jesus’ whole mission was to reveal to the entire universe the true character of his Father in Heaven—our God. Every action Jesus performed, no matter how significant (or insignificant) the impact may appear on the surface, was designed to give insight into the very heart of God’s character, which had been so grossly misrepresented by Satan and the men and women who had come to believe those lies.

From the moment Jesus came out of the womb (a most mind-blowing concept in itself—God lived in a womb for nine months), he was living a life that would forever refute all of the allegations that stemmed from Satan’s fork-tongued mouth. Jesus destroyed the false religious ideas about what God was like and how he feels about all of his creatures. The terror of God that had been used to control large masses of people throughout history was torn down and exposed as a lie every time Jesus did something. Jesus Christ—God in human form—did not just come to tell us about the character of God; rather, God himself chose to live among his creatures and show God’s character in person. For this reason, Christ exclaimed in his prayer, “I have finished the work,” because up until Christ’s sojourn on this broken planet, the character of God had been shrouded in mystery and hidden behind Satan’s distortions. If Christ finished the work that God gave him to do, and if that work was to reveal the ultimate truth about God and his character, then we who are God’s followers—if we are ever in doubt about what God is like—have to look no further than the God-Man Jesus Christ.

So what does Christ’s life reveal about God’s character?

Excerpts from Christ’s Life

The usual caricature of God, no matter which religion is painting it, is of an unapproachable deity from whom emanates massive amounts of power and who is enshrouded in light—a picture that does very little to alleviate fear of God and that might even appear to be a contradiction to the words of Jesus that “eternal life is to know you, the only true God” (John 17:3, CEV). Fortunately, the true nature of God is exemplified in the way God first appeared when he physically united himself with the human race. The omniscient and omnipotent God who can speak things into existence chose to come as an infant—a little baby—unable even to communicate outside of “goo-goo, gah-gah.” In the face of so many distortions about God, we see God meeting these false beliefs in the form of a newborn. Now, I ask, who is afraid of an infant? What does it say about God’s character that he would not only arrive on Planet Earth as a baby, but that he would also allow his own creatures to be in charge of taking care of him? God went from Heaven’s throne room and made his inhabitance within the womb of Mary. Truly, isn’t it this act that makes God so worthy of our worship—not that he sits on a big golden throne, but rather that he lived in a dark and wet womb? The Throne Womb! We have no reason to be afraid of a God who would limit himself in such a drastic way.

What does it say about God that he would allow himself to be baptized by one of his own creatures? Even John the Baptist realized how profound this was when he told Jesus, “I need to be baptized by you. Why are you coming to me?” (Matthew 3:14, NKJV). We see this kind of theme all throughout the life of Christ. Jesus never lorded his position as Creator over his creatures; instead he treated them as equals, despite their obvious defects.

After John baptized Christ, the Scriptures reveal an event of epic and staggering proportions as Jesus—who had fasted for forty days—was tempted by Satan in the desert. Here, we find the characters of the two antagonistic forces displayed for the whole universe to behold. “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become a loaf of bread” (Luke 4:3, NKJV). At every opportunity, Satan has tried to portray God as one who is selfish and who uses his power to serve himself; and in this first temptation laid out by the adversary, we find a God who would even deny his own basic needs rather than use his power to serve himself.

As the conversation continues, the dramatic contrast between the character of God and that of Satan becomes very clear: “I will give you all the power and glory of these kingdoms. All of it has been given to me, and I give it to anyone I please. So if you will worship me, all this will be yours” (Luke 4:6-7, NKJV). Satan is standing in front of his Creator, the very God who made the planet and all living things. Yet in his narcissism, Satan now offers these to Christ if he would bow down and worship him. This bold request of Satan reveals the truth about what he has been after from the beginning—acknowledgement that he is equal with God and a lustful desire to be worshiped as God. This encounter reveals that there is one quality of God that Satan can never counterfeit—the magnificent humility of a God who left the tranquility and authority of heaven’s throne room and came to serve lost humanity. Satan asks God in human form to worship him. What a contrast between the humble God and the proud creature!

“If you are the Son of God, jump from here! Scripture says, ‘He will put his angels in charge of you to watch over you carefully. They will carry you in their hands so that you never hit your foot against a rock’” (Luke 4:9-11, NKJV). I’ve often wondered how Satan could ever have the courage to rebel, if God is really the way Satan has tried to depict him. Some portrayals of God make him look like a deity who would respond to this last temptation by giving Satan a push from the mountaintop, with the thundering words of Jesus echoing, “Who are you to question me?” Yet we find our gracious God, in the form of Jesus Christ, allowing himself to be questioned by his own created angel. That’s the real testimony found in the three temptations of Christ. That God even allowed himself to be tempted in the first place is nothing short of miraculous, and oh so contrary to any theology that would perpetuate the picture of a violent and vindictive God.

What could be more revelatory about the kind of God Jesus came to reveal than the sheer volume of restorative healing Christ extended to those who were afflicted with physical, mental, and spiritual ailments? Humble and compassionate, Jesus never forced his patients into being healed but frequently asked, “What would you like?” The tenderness of Christ shines through in every story that involves healing. “When Jesus went to Peter’s house, he saw Peter’s mother-in-law in bed with a fever. Jesus touched her hand, and the fever went away” (Matthew 8:14, 15, NKJV). A God who reaches down to the sick and gently touches their hand—what a picture of God for mankind to witness! Did Jesus want praise and adoration for his healing miracles? Did Christ want posters of himself put up on every street corner when people heard that he would be coming to town? “And demons also came out of many, crying out and saying, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of God!’ And He, rebuking them, did not allow them to speak, for they knew that he was the Christ” (Luke 4:41, NKJV). Does this resemble a God who is hungry for recognition and power? The character of Satan has the audacity to request worship from his Creator—the same Creator of the universe in human form who refused the vocal acknowledgment that would testify of his identity. Christ’s condescension was both unbelievable and beautiful.

Did Jesus Christ seek out the largest crowds and biggest venues?

Very early the next morning, long before daylight, Jesus got up and left the house. He went out of the town to a lonely place, where he prayed. But Simon and his companions went out searching for him, and when they found him, they said, “Everyone is looking for you.” But Jesus answered, “We must go on to the other villages around here. I have to preach in them also, because that is why I came.” (Mark 1:35-38, GNB).

What tidbits of goodness are revealed about God’s beautiful character as Christ seeks out those even in the less populated areas!

What kind of company did God keep when he sojourned on this planet as Jesus Christ? “Later, Matthew invited Jesus and his disciples to his home as dinner guests, along with many tax collectors and other disreputable sinners. But when the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, ‘Why does your teacher eat with such scum?’” (Matthew 9:10, 11, NLT). Is it not sad that roughly 2,000 years from this event, the church Christ came to establish is known throughout the world for its scornful attitude toward “disreputable sinners”? David Kinnaman’s book unChristian[1] reveals extensive survey results of attitudes that the younger generation in the U.S. have toward Christians. The results were sobering. People in the 16-29 age group felt that “Christians” usually don’t resemble Christ very much. Of the 440 young people who were “outsiders” (i.e., not church goers), Christians were perceived to be “hypocritical” (85%), “insensitive to others” (70%), “judgmental” (87%), and “anti-homosexual” (91%). Is this what Christ was modeling when he chose to sit at Matthew’s table? I believe the same words that Jesus uttered in response to the Pharisees are being uttered by the Holy Spirit to the Christian churches today. “Go figure out what this Scripture means: ‘I’m after mercy, not religion. I’m here to invite outsiders, not coddle insiders’” (Matthew 9:13, MSG). Some say that sin can’t live in the presence of God; but here we find a God who seeks out sinners, eats and fellowships with them, and in doing so restores and heals them back into communion with him. What does this say about God’s character?

Has anything been used more frequently to distort God’s lovely character and to represent him as a fickle and capricious deity than the Ten Commandments? When taken out of context, these commandments appear to indicate to some that it is more important to keep the flock in line than to love those outside of it. But shouldn’t the One who gave us the Ten Commandments also be the One to shed the best light on how to interpret them?

On another Sabbath Jesus went into a synagogue and taught. A man was there whose right hand was paralyzed. Some teachers of the Law and some Pharisees wanted a reason to accuse Jesus of doing wrong, so they watched him closely to see if he would heal on the Sabbath. But Jesus knew their thoughts and said to the man, “Stand up and come here to the front.” The man got up and stood there. Then Jesus said to them, “I ask you: What does our Law allow us to do on the Sabbath? To help or to harm? To save someone’s life or destroy it?” (Luke 6:6-9, GNB).

What does it say about a God who allows his own laws to be used as evidence to accuse him? What does it say about how we who follow this God should interpret the use of God’s law? Look how Christ used the Scriptures and how he interpreted them. The following passage is almost too much to comprehend, because if Jesus were standing in most pulpits preaching a sermon and decided to use the Scriptures in this way, he’d be ridiculed as distorting them.

Not long afterward Jesus was walking through some wheat fields on a Sabbath. His disciples were hungry, so they began to pick heads of wheat and eat the grain. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to Jesus, “Look, it is against our Law for your disciples to do this on the Sabbath!” Jesus answered, “Have you never read what David did that time when he and his men were hungry? He went into the house of God, and he and his men ate the bread offered to God, even though it was against the Law for them to eat it—only the priests were allowed to eat that bread. Or have you not read in the Law of Moses that every Sabbath the priests in the Temple actually break the Sabbath law, yet they are not guilty? I tell you that there is something here greater than the Temple. The scripture says, ‘It is kindness that I want, not animal sacrifices.’ If you really knew what this means, you would not condemn people who are not guilty” (Matthew 12:1-7, GNB).

Does this paint a picture of an arbitrary God? Absolutely not. In fact, it discloses a truth that for many has been hidden much too long—that God’s character is love and that love is the highest law of all. Jesus did not come to do away with the law. “Do not think that I came to destroy the Law or the Prophets. I did not come to destroy but to fulfill” (Matthew 5:17, NKJV). Jesus came to reveal that the true purpose of the law was to bring us to love God and our neighbor.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and the most important commandment. The second most important commandment is like it: “Love your neighbor as you love yourself. The whole Law of Moses and the teachings of the prophets depend on these two commandments” (Matthew 22:37-40, GNB).

God came to his own people (John 1:11), but—in what has to be one of the most ironic accounts ever recorded—his own people charged him as being aligned with Satan.

Then a demon-possessed man, who was blind and couldn’t speak, was brought to Jesus. He healed the man so that he could both speak and see. The crowd was amazed and asked, “Could it be that Jesus is the Son of David, the Messiah?” But when the Pharisees heard about the miracle, they said, “No wonder he can cast out demons. He gets his power from Satan, the prince of demons.” (Matthew 12:22-24, NLT).

Here was God in human form doing what God always does when he arrives—healing and restoring, but the religious leaders had such a horrible conception of who God was and what his character must look like that they actually accused the Lord of being involved with satanic agencies. How far is God willing to stoop to reach his children? Allowing himself to be subjected to these kinds of accusations is simply marvelous and yet unthinkable at the same time.

Then the Jews said to Him, “Now we know that you have a demon! Abraham is dead, and the prophets; and you say, ‘If anyone keeps my word he shall never taste death’” (John 8:52, NKJV).

Here, Jesus is charged not only with being aligned with Satan, but also with being inhabited by a demon. Does this accusation by the religious leaders invoke change within our hearts as we see a God who goes beyond the call of duty to make known his humble character?

What about the demons Jesus frequently encountered? Can we catch a glimpse of what God’s character is truly like from his interactions with the rebellious angels that once were loyal to him?

When he arrived at the other side in the region of the Gadarenes, two demon-possessed men coming from the tombs met him. They were so violent that no one could pass that way. “What do you want with us, Son of God?” they shouted. “Have you come here to torture us before the appointed time?” Some distance from them a large herd of pigs was feeding. The demons begged Jesus, “If you drive us out, send us into the herd of pigs.” He said to them, “Go!” So they came out and went into the pigs, and the whole herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and died in the water. (Matthew 8:28-32, NIV).

Let’s look a little more closely at the interaction between Jesus Christ and the demons called “Legion” (Luke 8:30). Why did they leave their comfortable and cozy graveyard and run directly at Jesus Christ? They made it plain by asking the question that many Christians and non-Christians alike seem to be asking, “Have you come to torment us before the time?” Most of the religious world believes in a time when God will torture his disobedient children. In fact, many have rejected Christianity because of this belief. Some will even expound on this Scripture and use it as a tool to prove that God’s justice requires that he torture his rebellious children. But is there really a time when the Jesus we see unveiled in Scripture will transform from the God of love to a god who tortures? Torture is defined as, “the infliction of severe bodily pain, especially as a punishment or means of persuasion.”[2] Is this the kind of God that we see manifested in the life of Jesus Christ—a God whose so-called “divine justice and holiness” compel him to inflict severe physical and mental suffering as a punishment or means of persuasion? No—a most emphatic NO! What makes the demons’ inquiry so deceiving is not the fact that they thought Jesus was there “to torture them before the time,” but rather that they implied that Jesus would ever have a time to torture them. The idea that God would ever torture his creatures is one of the worst attacks on his character and a deception that originated with the prince of demons, Satan. God is truly Love personified. Our gracious Creator is more loving than we’ve ever imagined. How did the interaction between Jesus and Legion demonstrate this? The demons exclaimed, “Send us to the pigs, and let us go into them.” How did the God-Man Jesus answer the demons’ request? Shouldn’t Christ have taken this opportunity to give them a few smacks in the face—you know—taken this occasion to give them a little taste of the kind of punishment the future holds for them? What kind of God do we see in the Person of Jesus Christ? The most amazing revelation of God’s unconditional love is being manifested in a face-to-face meeting between the Creator and the created. Even though the demons implied that our gracious and loving God tortures his children in the end, Jesus tenderly uttered one tiny little word—a whisper, a still, small voice, “Go.” Our God shows love and compassion even to the demons. If Jesus can be compassionate to the demons, I, like Paul the apostle, ask what it is that can separate us from the love of God; for I am convinced that nothing in heaven, earth, or the sea below can keep us from him who is the very personification of graciousness and mercy.

Is there a more touching story than that of Jairus and his young daughter? Jairus came to Jesus and begged him to come and heal his little girl. But before Jesus arrived at Jairus’ house, the girl died.

They arrived at Jairus’ house, where Jesus saw the confusion and heard all the loud crying and wailing. He went in and said to them, “Why all this confusion? Why are you crying? The child is not dead—she is only sleeping!” They laughed at him, so he put them all out, took the child’s father and mother and his three disciples, and went into the room where the child was lying. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha, koum,” which means, “Little girl, I tell you to get up!” She got up at once and started walking around. (She was twelve years old.) When this happened, they were completely amazed. But Jesus gave them strict orders not to tell anyone, and He said, “Give her something to eat.” (Mark 5:38-43, GNB).

Once again, Jesus exemplifies God’s true character with his signature statement, “Don’t tell anyone”; but in this case, even that is overshadowed by the unbelievable attention to detail in telling the people to get the little girl something to eat. A God who is concerned about the hunger pains of a young girl? From the tummy to the tomb—Jesus manifested the beautiful character of God with stunning humility and compassion for others.

Some may point to a more forceful account, the cleansing of the temple. And yet, careful examination of this story reveals some important details that are frequently missed.

The Jewish Passover was near, so Jesus went to Jerusalem. He found those who were selling cattle, sheep, and pigeons in the temple courtyard. He also found moneychangers sitting there. He made a whip from small ropes and threw everyone with their sheep and cattle out of the temple courtyard. He dumped the moneychangers’ coins and knocked over their tables. He told those who sold pigeons, “Pick up this stuff, and get it out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” His disciples remembered that Scripture said, “Devotion for your house will consume me.” (John 2:13-17, GW).

Did Jesus really make a whip so he could inflict physical pain on those who were making the temple a marketplace, or does common sense dictate that people must use a whip if they are to herd and drive out animals from one place to another? In fact, reading all four Gospel accounts reveals that the only thing Jesus touched was the furniture. “So they came to Jerusalem. Then Jesus went into the temple and began to drive out those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves” (Mark 11:15, NKJV). “Then Jesus went into the temple of God and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves” (Matthew 21:12, NKJV).

Yes, there was definitely a lot of stuff getting thrown around that day—but none of it included human beings. But there was another, more important reason for the cleansing of the temple: “Jesus was teaching daily in the temple courts. The chief priests and the experts in the law and the prominent leaders among the people were seeking to assassinate him, but they could not find a way to do it, for all the people hung on his words” (Luke 19:47, 48, NET). Why couldn’t the religious leaders get to Jesus after he evicted all the money changers from the temple? The people were listening to him preach. The blind and the lame were not afraid of him, and the children came to him shouting for joy (Matthew 21:14, 15). A God who can chase certain people out in such a way that somehow attracts other groups of people in? This example in the life of Christ is not a blemish on what could’ve been considered a spotless record. Rather, it is a wonderful example that “the light has come into the world, but people love darkness rather than light” (John 3:19, GNB).

Now early in the morning He came again into the temple, and all the people came to Him; and He sat down and taught them. Then the scribes and Pharisees brought to Him a woman caught in adultery. And when they had set her in the midst, they said to Him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses, in the law, commanded us that such should be stoned. But what do You say?” This they said, testing Him, that they might have something of which to accuse Him. But Jesus stooped down and wrote on the ground with His finger, as though He did not hear. So when they continued asking Him, He raised Himself up and said to them, “He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.” And again He stooped down and wrote on the ground. Then those who heard it, being convicted by their conscience, went out one by one, beginning with the oldest even to the last. And Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst. When Jesus had raised Himself up and saw no one but the woman, He said to her, “Woman, where are those accusers of yours? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said to her, “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.” (John 8:2-11, NKJV).

A woman is thrown at Christ’s feet. This unfortunate girl had been tricked by a group of power-hungry religious leaders who wanted a fraudulent indictment filed against Jesus. Most Bible commentaries focus on how Jesus defended the troubled young woman as she awaited the expected stones to strike her. It really is a remarkable example of the kind of love that Christ came to contrast against the darkness of this planet. On closer inspection, however, something is germinating beneath the surface of the story, desperately trying to break through and grow right into our hearts. We see Christ, God in human flesh, who knew the minds of these men. He knew what was pulsating through their hearts. They wanted to murder him. They hated him. Even worse, they were victimizing this poor woman in order to complete their evil plan. At the very least, don’t you think Christ would have been vindicated in publicly sharing a few of their sins with those who were watching? What does God’s love look like with skin on it—the kind of love that makes a nuclear explosion resemble the bubbles kids blow in their soda? Jesus Christ picked up a stick, knelt down, and wrote the sins of those frauds in the sand, where no one could know their deeds except for them.[3] The God-Man Jesus Christ was jealous for the reputations of even those who wanted to kill him. And who knows, maybe one of those men spared that day became transformed as he understood how kindly Jesus dealt with him, despite having the knowledge to destroy him. A God who protects the reputations of his sinful children stands in stark opposition to Satan’s picture of God and is further proof that God is worthy of our trust.[4]

As he came near Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, he sent two disciples ahead with these instructions: “Go to the village there ahead of you; as you go in, you will find a colt tied up that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here.” (Luke 19:29, 30, GNB).

Can we name one leader in the history of mankind who chose to ride a donkey to his or her own death?[5] Can we name one god out of the many in polytheistic and monotheistic religions who would ride a donkey to his own execution?[6] Does any reason exist ever to fear a God like this? Jesus’ public ministry was most certainly coming to a close, and he had warned the disciples that as they entered Jerusalem, the scribes and Pharisees were planning to murder him. Jesus knew what the future looked like for him, yet he purposefully chose to ride into Jerusalem on the back of a colt. What madness is this? This kind of “insanity” can only be understood in the context of God’s loving character—a God so determined to eradicate and dismantle the lies about himself that he would choose to ride victoriously to his own death, using only the “weapons” of humility, kindness, and forgiveness. While the misconception about a vengeful God circulated in the minds of the people he came to save, we see Jesus destroying that heinous picture of God as he journeyed on the back of a donkey and into the arms of those who wanted to take vengeance on him.

The night before he was murdered, Jesus gathered his disciples in the upper room for one last dinner. How intensely he loved them, and how desperately he wanted them to realize what was about to happen so they would be ready for the fierce trials ahead. He had spent so much time teaching them, showing them the way to the spiritual realm where they would be connected to their Heavenly Father. But as our Lord looked around the room hoping to find eyes illuminated by the truth that he had come to reveal, all he saw and heard were arguments and anger over who was “going to be number one in the kingdom.” The heart of Christ ached as he realized how his students were still idolizing the god of social status and selfishness, and how hard the yoke of Satan’s delusions weighed on the necks of the oppressed. What could he do in those last hours to reveal the character of God?

Now before the Feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that His hour had come that He should depart from this world to the Father, having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end. And supper being ended, the devil having already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray Him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper and laid aside His garments, took a towel and girded Himself. After that, He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded. (John 13:1-5, NKJV).

Jesus quietly got up and slipped to the back of the room, where he untied his robe, grabbed a towel, and put it around his waist. With a basin of water in his hands, he walked over to his disciples. No sign of anger or frustration was seen on his face—but rather a warm and pensive smile as he got down on his knees to wash twelve pairs of dirty, stinky feet. A hush came over the room as the disciples pondered what Jesus was doing. At that time, they did not fully understand; yet the impact of this situation eventually changed the lives of these twelve men for the rest of eternity. It would be difficult to overstate the significance of the fact that Jesus washed the feet of Judas. He put the water over Judas’ feet, gently massaging the dirt and grime away from the person who was about to betray him. Perhaps Jesus looked into the eyes of Judas, hoping that Judas would see the power of God’s kingdom—the power of humility, the supremacy of being last, the authority of service. Yet Jesus knew that even in this act, Judas’s heart would not be turned; nevertheless, Jesus washed his betrayer’s feet. Does this act invite a new reflection on just what kind of a person God is? This truth about God’s loving character will set the mind free from Satan’s distortions. “I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ” (Romans 1:16), exclaimed Paul; and I believe it was the Good News about a God who kneels before mankind to wash their feet that caused Paul to feel this way.

Some of the most glorious moments in the revelation of God’s character are seen just before Christ died. God in human form allowed himself to be put on trial in front of mere men—an act that defies all worldly comprehension.

Standing near the cross were Jesus’ mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary (the wife of Clopas), and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother standing there beside the disciple he loved, he said to her, “Dear woman, here is your son.” And he said to this disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from then on this disciple took her into his home. (John 19:25-27, NLT).

What does it say about God that, as he is dying, he is more concerned about his mother’s future and well-being than his own life? What thoughts about God do we find ourselves experiencing as we realize what was taking place? Fear? Coercion? Manipulation? Dread? Of course not. Instead, we experience peace and quite possibly a sense of euphoria. Yes, God really is so loving. It gets even better.

One of the criminals hanging alongside cursed him: “Some Messiah you are! Save yourself! Save us!” But the other one made him shut up: “Have you no fear of God? You’re getting the same as him. We deserve this, but not him—he did nothing to deserve this.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom.” He said, “Don’t worry, I will. Today you will join me in paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43, MSG).

How does God treat thieves? Does his character of love also apply to common criminals? The testimony of the Scriptures is a most emphatic “Yes.” While religion often suggests that God is exacting in his acceptance of others, and justice frequently overshadows God’s incredible love, we see a God who has accepted and loved a criminal with no strings attached. If only the entire human race would know this about God. The evidence for a God who doesn’t require anything to forgive those who have rebelled against him is confirmed by Christ’s own words as he was dying: “Then Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.’ And they divided his garments and cast lots” (Luke 23:34, NKJV). Did the Pharisaic mob who screamed for the execution of Jesus ask him for forgiveness? Did they realize what they had done and have a change of heart? If God in this story forgives those who don’t even ask for it, then won’t he forgive those who do? God forgives not because he is asked for it but because it’s in his very nature to forgive—it’s part of his beautiful and loving character. To not forgive is the polar opposite of God’s true character.[7]

And finally, what does it say about our God that even after the resurrection he would be mistaken for a common gardener?

But Mary stood outside by the tomb weeping, and as she wept she stooped down and looked into the tomb. And she saw two angels in white sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. Then they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him.” Now when she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, and did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” She, supposing Him to be the gardener, said to Him, “Sir, if You have carried Him away, tell me where You have laid Him, and I will take Him away.” (John 20:11-15, NKJV).

Where are the trumpets? Where is the light shooting out of Christ’s eye sockets? Where are the manifestations of power and glory that we always associate with the risen Jesus? In fact, this is the real power of God’s character, the real glory of his exaltedness, the pure energy of his glorious character: the humility of our God is so magnificent that he is mistaken for a gardener. We should all bow before such a God, whose power is matched by his humility.

These examples of Christ’s life are just a small part of what we can discover as we search the Scriptures looking for morsels of goodness that emanate from God’s character. In the life of Christ as revealed in the Bible, we can taste and see that the Lord is good. My prayer is that you will be propelled and provoked to start your own quest into the life of Christ, for to know him is life eternal.

[1].  David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons. unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity…and Why It Matters  (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2007).

[2].  The Concise Oxford English Dictionary, 11th Edition.

[3].  Jesus’ writing in the sand caused the religious leaders to withdraw. Although it is not explicitly stated in the text, it seems quite likely that Jesus wrote their sins in the sand.

[4].  This passage does not imply that there are no consequences to the woman’s actions. Jesus forgave her but also told her, “Go and sin no more.” God is concerned about the healing of victims and perpetrators, offering love and forgiveness to all who desire it (Matthew 5:46-48).

[5].  Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on a colt may have also been a sign that he was a king in the line of David. Israel’s kings had their own set-apart donkey (1 Kings 1:32). Jehu, son of Jehoshaphat, was treated in a similar manner (2 Kings 9:13). The palm branches are a symbol of triumph and of victory, as seen in other parts of the Bible, such as Leviticus 23:40 and Revelation 7:9. Foreshadowed in Zechariah 9:9, 10, Jesus’ riding on the donkey denotes humility, as well as triumphant victory; by his self-sacrificial death, Jesus was victorious over the devil and the devil’s kingdom (Colossians 2:15; Hebrews 2:14; 1 John 3:8).

[6].  Even though donkeys may have had importance in other religions (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donkey), Christ is unique because he rode it voluntarily to the city of his execution.

[7].  God’s forgiveness does not automatically result in our salvation. Like the thief on the cross, it is up to us to accept his forgiveness in order to experience healing and life in God. Instances are recorded where God forgave, but people chose to reject his forgiveness and offer of salvation (for example, see Numbers 14:20-23).

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Parting Words

LARRY ASHCRAFT

THE LATE RANDY PAUSCH, Carnegie Mellon professor of computer science, delivered a Last Lecture on September 18, 2007.[1] Dr. Pausch had terminal pancreatic cancer and through this lecture wanted to leave with his friends, colleagues, and family the wisdom he had gained over the years about what’s important in life. Viewed by millions on YouTube, Dr. Pausch’s last lecture conveys a belief in such things as telling the truth, being earnest, apologizing, and focusing on helping others. He felt that these things were exceedingly important for living a positive, meaningful life. These were his parting words.

The  “last lecture” of Jesus is found in the Gospel of John. These parting words were spoken the night before he was crucified—words that are of utmost importance to all of his followers. The setting for this discourse is the atmosphere created by Jesus’ humble washing of the disciples’ feet. This practice, which aims at inspiring humble service toward others, may seem a little awkward to many Christians. A breakdown occurs because public foot washing no longer is a part of everyday life in the modern world. If Jesus lived in our culture today, I’m sure the ordinance would be different. Like a shoeshine man operating on a street corner, Jesus might polish shoes to get across his message of humility. And if he chose this method, I imagine that he’d do it with zing, rhythmically snapping his buffing rag as he waxed up a gloss. In this way, Jesus would communicate without words that there is no shame in serving others. Or maybe Jesus would wash cars to convey an attitude of humility. Can you just see him detailing the alloy wheels on Judas’s Miata? Or, perhaps Jesus would do laundry to communicate his picture of willing service to the world. I can see him laboring over a food stain on Peter’s shirt and taking great care to get the crease just right when pressing Matthew’s pants. Whatever the setting, Jesus would find some contemporary way in which to say; “Center your attention on helping others. You’ll be a lot happier that way.”

On many occasions, Jesus told his disciples that the greatest in his kingdom would be the servant of the rest; but perhaps not until they actually saw their Lord wash their own feet did they actually begin to get the message. Having now set the stage, Jesus went on to express what was on his heart. In John 13:21, Jesus made known his awareness of a confidant conspiring against him: “I am telling you the truth: one of you is going to betray me.” This scene must have caused a sense of déjà vu, for the Lord had traveled this path before during the original conspiracy of Lucifer against God’s government.[2]

Immediately following these verses, Jesus indirectly suggested that the disciples have missed the point of the commandments. “And now I give you a new commandment: love one another” (John 13:34, GNB). As he had said elsewhere, all of what had been written about God and religion can be distilled into this one, others-centered attitude (Matthew 22:40). God’s commandments were meant to lead his followers into developing right attitudes—allowing us to get the most out of life through avoiding the behavior that brings misery. Unfortunately, they have often been viewed as prohibitions that cause us to miss out on the fun in life.

Jesus gave his disciples words of consolation this last evening, saying that he would be back to take them to a better place (John 14:1-3). But the most comforting thought that Jesus voiced comes in response to Philip’s desire to see God the Father. Without shaming him for his lack of perception, Jesus simply said that he and the Father are the same. If we know One, we know the Other (John 14:8, 9).

Jesus came across as warm and personable. But when God the Father is mentioned, many people imagine smoke, fire, and deafening thunder—such as Dorothy and her three friends saw when they first met the Wizard of Oz. Now, it’s true that God has appeared to humans in an Oz-like manner on occasion, but Jesus left no room for doubt regarding the similarity between himself and the Father: he and the Father are just alike. Later, Jesus told the disciples, “I am not saying that I will ask the Father on your behalf. No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God” (John 16:26, 27, NIV). All of this sends a consistent message: The Father is just like Jesus; there are no surprises here.

And it gets even better. Jesus confirms that there is a third member of the Godhead who will lead us in the right direction (John 14:16, 17, 26). Based on the description in the surrounding verses, it seems safe to assume that the Spirit is the same as Jesus and the Father: someone who is there to help us out (John 15:26; 16:13-15). So whether talking about the Father, the Son, or the Holy Spirit, it can be said that God is not your enemy. Never has been. Never will be.[3]

In spite of what seems so clear in these verses, why is the prevailing view of God the Father so different from that of Jesus, who came to Earth and lived with us? Is it that we want him to be different? Is it because Jesus falls short of demonstrating all the god-like traits we expect in a deity? Do we humans pick up the slack by creating an image of the Father who is significantly different from Jesus? Is it that a Father like Jesus just isn’t powerful enough to be a very good god for us?[4] Are we guilty of having the same mindset as Home Improvement’s Tim-the-tool-man Taylor, for whom the solution to any problem is to apply “more power?”

We Christians should have echoing in our thoughts the words of the angel to Zechariah, “‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the LORD Almighty” (Zechariah 4:6). Upon reflection, God’s subtle whispering to us makes such good sense because genuine love and trust cannot be commanded or forced—they must be freely chosen.

The beginning of John chapter 15 introduces the vine metaphor, perhaps inspired by a small vineyard seen en route to Gethsemane that evening. Staying connected with God through conversation is the gist of this passage. Just like spouses who daily talk to each other about what is currently going on, Jesus urged us to stay connected to him.

In verses 13-15, Jesus told his disciples how close this relationship with him is to develop. When we stay connected to him through frequent conversation, he considers us his friends. “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father” (John 15:15, NRSV). Wow! Having God refer to us as his friends, indicating a remarkable level of intimacy and trust, is an honor that is difficult to eclipse.

Jesus detailed the extent of our friendship with him by saying that we will understand the business of his Kingdom. This is placed in contrast to domestic helpers who lack seeing the full scope of the master’s business. Though service to others is a theme of God’s Kingdom, the context here is trying to show that mindless, conscripted service is not the offer he is extending to his followers. God does not hesitate to share with us as much understanding as we’re able to grasp. With this kind of offer on the table, why would anyone opt to remain an uninformed domestic helper?

And what is the business of his Kingdom that we’re supposed to understand? Jesus made this clear in the surrounding verses. We’re to love one another. We are to show genuine concern for the well-being of every human, resisting the desire to control them in ways that benefit us. We are to promote each person’s freedom, allowing for self-control, for that is one of the Spirit’s agenda items too (Galatians 5:22, 23).

In the latter part of chapter 15 and into chapter 16, Jesus left no illusions about how “the world” will receive our loving, nonmanipulative influence. We can expect the same treatment that he received. But through it all, we’ll be given insight about what is true and what isn’t by the Helper, the Holy Spirit.

During the evening, Jesus remarked a couple of times about asking the Father for our needs—in his name. This isn’t to be seen as Jesus disclosing the magic words for opening the door of heaven’s blessings. In the Hebrew culture, a name is viewed as the token of a person’s character; Jesus’ name is synonymous with his character. To ask in Jesus’ name means to request our wants and needs with the humility, the trust, and the character that Jesus displayed. Asking in Jesus’ name is intended to change us, not to change the Father’s willingness to give.

The majority of chapter 17 records Jesus’ prayer for his followers. Here, we read a prayer of Jesus, the God-man, sensing the anguish he was about to experience and asking the Father to keep safe those who have aligned their loyalties with him. The most profound part of the prayer comes at the very beginning, where we hear Jesus say that knowing God is the essential ingredient for making it to the hereafter. These words must have made a deep impression on John, who penned this same thought elsewhere: “We know also that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true. And we are in him who is true—even in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life” (1 John 5:20, NIV).

We realize the significance of knowing God aright when we consider all the twisted views of God and how these maligned perspectives end up having a changing effect on us. If we view God as vengeance oriented, then this gives us license to dish out vengeance. If we view God as capricious and uncaring, then we feel justified in being a snob. If we view God as a permissive, anything-goes parent, then we’ll likely not get too concerned about our cancerous, self-centered attitudes. But if we know the Father as Jesus knew the Father, then this knowledge can have a transforming effect on our character. To truly know God aright changes us from rebels into his trusting friends; it is, in fact, to have the sin problem corrected in our thinking.

Sin isn’t primarily a behavioral problem—it’s a problem of attitude, which in turn governs our behavior. John said it best: “Sin is lawlessness.”[5] Every person has a streak of lawlessness on the inside, even when they’re acting their best on the outside. And what fuels this lawless attitude is the picture of a God who can’t be trusted to always work on their behalf. Solomon realized this when he said, “Where there is no revelation, the people cast off restraint; but blessed is he who keeps the law” (Proverbs 29:18, NIV ). Forming a correct picture of God is paramount in reestablishing trust in him. “Those who know you, Lord, will trust you” (Psalm 9:10, GNB). Through a cooperative effort with him, a spirit of graciousness akin to God’s displaces our rebel attitudes.

Immediately following this, Jesus says to the Father, “I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do” (John 17:4, NRSV). What singular work did the Father give Jesus to do? Jesus leaves no doubt: “I have revealed you to those whom you gave me out of the world” (John 17:6, GNB). Jesus was successful in his mission! The twisted views of God had been set straight by Jesus through his daily life and through his last lecture. His death and resurrection would go on to say even more about the character of God.

In John 13-17 we’ve glanced briefly at the parting words of Jesus. Now consider what wasn’t mentioned. Jesus gave no lists of prescribed behaviors to follow—or to avoid. Yet, hasn’t strict compliance with esteemed behaviors been the hallmark of religion over the centuries? Could this be an indication that focusing on behavior is not the way to go about living a godly life?

When I was learning to drive, my dad would tell me to look far down the road to where I wanted to go and just aim the car that direction. Focusing on the section of road immediately in front makes it much more difficult to steer the car. Rather, peering around the curve as far ahead as you can see allows you to get there a whole lot easier. Likewise, gazing down the road past that oncoming car seems to always take you to where you want to be, without clipping a side-view mirror.

So it is in life. When we focus on the present, trying to arrest our less-than-gracious behavior, life becomes anything but a smooth ride. But as we ponder the life of Christ, keeping our eyes looking ahead to his leading, then life seems less anxious. By considering his style, his way of living, we’re slowly transformed into his likeness. By beholding him, we are changed (2 Corinthians 3:18).

Another central aspect of modern Christianity about which Jesus says nothing on this last night with his followers is that of the legal process through which we’re saved. Think about it. Here is the perfect chance to be clear about the details of “vicarious substitutionary atonement,” of  “propitiation” and of  “forensic justification by faith.” This would have been the time for Jesus to lay out how the payment of his death would satisfy the being who takes offense at our shortcomings. And how much dialog does Jesus devote to it? None.

What Jesus did talk about were the central ideas involved in us being reconciled from being God’s enemies to being God’s friends: at-one-ment. He talked of connectedness, intimate friendship, and knowing the truth about our Heavenly Father. “And eternal life means to know you, the only true God, and to know Jesus Christ, whom you sent” (John 17:3, GNB). After all, we are the ones who have been alienated from God, not the other way around (Romans 5:10 and 2 Corinthians 5:19).

Jesus came to the world as Immanuel, God with us. He revealed to us our misconceptions of God by living among us as the God-man. He addressed the essentials, through his talk and through his actions. His parting words in John 13-17 summarize what he came to tell us. This was the mission he came to accomplish and that he then announced as completed the night before he died (John 17:4).[6]

So why was the death of Christ needed? Jesus died to demonstrate the toxicity of perceived guilt and shame that naturally follow from sin. Though the “Lamb without blemish” was devoid of the lawless attitude John equates with sin, “the LORD laid on him the iniquity of us all” (1 John 3:4; 1 Peter 1:19; Isaiah 53:6). Jesus experienced the guilt and shame resulting from the sins of the world, demonstrating that God doesn’t kill the sinner but that “sin pays its wage—death” (Romans 6:23, GNB). Jesus the God-man, the Architect of the Universe and Older Brother to all of humanity, died of a broken heart.

So what can we say of Jesus’ parting words? Like the last lecture of Professor Randy Pausch, Jesus highlighted the essential truths for our time here on Earth. Jesus confirmed how deeply God loves us. He also left us with details of how to survive in his absence.

What more could he have said? What more do we really need?

[1].  Dr. Pausch’s Last Lecture can be seen here: <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo>.

[2].  See the doublespeak alluding to Satan’s rebellion in Isaiah 14:12-15 and Ezekiel 28:12-19.

[3].  See Romans 8:26-31 to get Paul’s opinion on this.

[4].  Contrast this thought with Jesus’ statement in Matthew 28:18.

[5].  See the following translations for 1 John 3:4: ASV, RSV, NASB, NAB, NIV, NRSV, NKJV, WEB.

[6].  See also Isaiah 53:4-6, 10 and Romans 4:25.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Cross: Virus Protection for the Mind

MANUEL SILVA

ONE OF MY CHILDREN’S MOST POPULAR BOOKS is a 2006 daily devotional entitled, Where in the World? by Helen Lee Robinson—a collection of 365 short stories gleaned from all over the world. One of the most memorable involves a Bangladeshi family that discovered two deadly cobras slithering in their yard. They called a local snake charmer to get rid of the unwanted intruders. After looking everywhere for their hideout without success, they made one last attempt by lifting the floorboards of the basement-less house. To their shock and horror, they found not only the two snakes, but also 3,500 others in a mass colony harboring hundreds of unhatched eggs. The story ends with a reference to Psalm 19:12, NKJV: “Who can understand his errors? Cleanse me from secret faults.”

The psalmist recognizes that there are many faults lying hidden from our immediate consciousness. When uncovered, we are often shocked by the pervasiveness of the sin problem that infects our hearts and minds. We reel from it as one who has discovered 3,500 cobras nesting under the floorboards, and we recognize the need for healing.

Nicodemus, a Jewish teacher, came to Jesus to find out more about salvation from sin and how to acquire life from God (John 3:1-16). Jesus immediately directed Nicodemus to look into his own being. He told this religious teacher of the “chosen” people that he must be “born again” and pointed him (and us) to the need for inner renewal through God’s Spirit.

Jesus helps Nicodemus understand by referring to another, more ancient story. It seems that we desperately need stories to understand abstract concepts. He reminds Nicodemus of the inglorious past of his own ancestors, recorded in Numbers 21:4-9:

Then the people of Israel set out from Mount Hor, taking the road to the Red Sea to go around the land of Edom. But the people grew impatient with the long journey, and they began to speak against God and Moses. “Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die here in the wilderness?” they complained. “There is nothing to eat here and nothing to drink. And we hate this horrible manna!” So the LORD sent poisonous snakes among the people, and many were bitten and died. Then the people came to Moses and cried out, “We have sinned by speaking against the LORD and against you. Pray that the LORD will take away the snakes.” So Moses prayed for the people. Then the LORD told him, “Make a replica of a poisonous snake and attach it to a pole. All who are bitten will live if they simply look at it!” So Moses made a snake out of bronze and attached it to a pole. Then anyone who was bitten by a snake could look at the bronze snake and be healed! (NLT).

Perhaps it should be no surprise to us that the Israelites were tired of eating manna in the wilderness, no matter how appealing it may have been. We are creatures of novelty, and it is in our make-up to crave diversity. Also in our make-up is to complain when we don’t get what we crave.

Yet the Bible tells us that God sent fiery (poisonous) serpents among the people, and many died. As a result, the people came to Moses saying: “We have sinned for we have spoken against God and against you. Pray to the Lord that he take away the serpents from us” (Numbers 21:7, NKJV). God’s seemingly strange response was to instruct Moses to make a bronze serpent, set it on a pole, and lift it high so that all could get a good look. Anyone who looked at it would be saved from death. Those who refused would die. We know from later stories in the Bible that this bronze serpent survived for hundreds of years among the people as a sacred relic—an object of prayer and devotion (2 Kings 18:4). Why did God choose a snake, the very symbol for Satan, as a means of healing? Why did God take that risk? Why did God, who didn’t want his people worshiping graven images (Exodus 20:4) command such an image to be made? And why would a loving God send poisonous snakes to torment his complaining people?

Serpents loom large in human folklore. Everywhere on Planet Earth, we find evidence of people revering and fearing snakes. Dragon legends are pervasive in almost every culture and on every continent, and these dragons are basically glorified serpents.[1] Today, representations of seven-headed serpents (dragons) can be found in Southeast Asia.[2] The ancient Canaanites also worshiped a seven-headed serpent/dragon whom they called Lotan.[3] Interestingly, in Hebrew, Lotan is pronounced Leviathan.[4] Many have imagined Leviathan, depicted in Job as sporting in the sea (Psalm 104:26), to be a great whale. Yet the reference to Leviathan in Isaiah 27:1 provides another, not so benign image:

In that day the LORD with His severe sword, great and strong,

Will punish Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan that twisted serpent;

And He will slay the reptile that is in the sea. (NKJV).

No, Leviathan is not a whale. Rather, it is a reference back to the great archetypical source of evil. In the Scriptures, serpents are always associated with evil and wrongdoing.

Both John the Baptist and Jesus called Israel’s corrupt religious leaders a “brood of vipers” (Matthew 3:7; 12:34; 23:33).

Consider this description of a seven-headed snake in Revelation 12:1-9:

Then a great and mysterious sight appeared in the sky. There was a woman, whose dress was the sun and who had the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was soon to give birth, and the pains and suffering of childbirth made her cry out. Another mysterious sight appeared in the sky. There was a huge red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and a crown on each of his heads. With his tail he dragged a third of the stars out of the sky and threw them down to the earth. He stood in front of the woman, in order to eat her child as soon as it was born. Then she gave birth to a son, who will rule over all nations with an iron rod. But the child was snatched away and taken to God and his throne. The woman fled to the desert, to a place God had prepared for her, where she will be taken care of for 1,260 days. Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, who fought back with his angels; but the dragon was defeated, and he and his angels were not allowed to stay in heaven any longer. The huge dragon was thrown out—that ancient serpent, named the Devil, or Satan, that deceived the whole world. He was thrown down to earth, and all his angels with him. (GNB).

The reference to the “ancient serpent” in verse 9 is doubtlessly hearkening back to the oldest story in the Bible—that of the serpent (Satan) tempting the first man and woman to distrust their Creator. Sin is like a poisonous bite from the devil. Unchecked, it will lead to death. The only hope for the victim of such a bite is an “antidote”—a means of salvation—to free us from the “serpents” that lurk in the recesses of our hearts. Often, we are not even aware of their presence. These “serpents” represent all the evil, all of the guile that is within us.

Another analogy is to compare the devil to a hacker who sits at his computer having nothing better to do than to infiltrate our “hardware”—our minds. He sends a virus our way. Innocently, we receive what appears to be an innocuous email, open it, and the malignant program begins to do its dirty work until our operational system spits out garbage. If left unchecked, the virus will corrode our entire system. Our “computer” will be useless—as good as dead. In the meantime, though, we have been communicating with others; and as we do, we pass on the destructive virus.

This analogy clarifies to us what Satan did to Adam and Eve—and to all of us. In Romans 5:12 we read that “through one man sin entered the world, and death through sin, and thus death spread to all men, because all sinned.” Paul also tells us that, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). This understanding of our condition—the fact that we are literally “hacked” by Satan’s lies about God’s trustworthiness—may help us better understand how God is trying to save us and to restore us back to his original design. With this in mind, let’s reconsider the story of Moses and the people in the wilderness.

Why did God send fiery serpents to his whining, complaining people, and why did he command Moses to make a bronze replica of their torment for them to stare at? Why would God use a serpent as a symbol of healing and salvation? It doesn’t seem to make much sense at first, until we hear Jesus saying, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:14, 15, NKJV).

Jesus must be lifted up—as the Son of Man. As a human being, exposed to the satanic serpentine “virus” of selfishness, yet completely free of sin, he must be lifted up.[5]

Snakes, as noted earlier, are symbols of all that is evil—symbols of the “sin virus” that has infected humanity. This sin-sickness leads people of all ages, races, and languages to be self-serving and is the motivating force behind whining and complaining. A spiritual disease that originated in the mind of Satan (Ezekiel 28:15), it led him to self-servingly covet the very throne of God (Isaiah 14:12-15). The Bible alludes to the fact that a third of the angels of heaven agreed with Satan (Revelation 12:4), leading to an open war of rebellion against the lordship of God in the heavenly realms as well as here on earth. Our only hope is to heal from the effects of sin. In fact, the very meaning of the word salvation is to heal, just as a salve heals a wound.[6]

The fiery serpents in the wilderness were meant to bring the Israelites to the stark realization that all their whining and complaining was the output of the self-serving satanic “virus” that lurked within. Sometimes, the snake within needs to rear its ugly head before we recognize that there is a problem. These serpents were not only a reminder of the deadly poison within, but also an accelerated taste of the end result of allowing that poison to go unchecked—death. The purpose for looking at the bronze serpent was to get people to recognize their problem. Without recognizing it, there would be no motivation to do anything about it. No healing properties were present in the metal snake. The healing came from the recognition of their alienation from God and a decision to trust him to meet their needs. Those who refused to trust God refused to look at the bronze serpent, and they died.

Jesus, dying on the Cross as a result of our sinfulness, must be lifted up in our minds, much as the bronze serpent was lifted up on a pole as the sobering reminder of all that ails the human race. As a means for our salvation, God “made him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Corinthians 5:21). In other words, Jesus Christ, hanging upon the Cross, was there standing in the place of all of us who have been infected by the virus that has been placed inside our minds.

In Romans 5:12-19, we begin to understand how the satanic virus of self-centeredness is eliminated from the human “motherboard”—our mind:

When Adam sinned, sin entered the world. Adam’s sin brought death, so death spread to everyone, for everyone sinned. Yes, people sinned even before the law was given. But it was not counted as sin because there was not yet any law to break. Still, everyone died—from the time of Adam to the time of Moses—even those who did not disobey an explicit commandment of God, as Adam did. Now Adam is a symbol, a representation of Christ, who was yet to come. But there is a great difference between Adam’s sin and God’s gracious gift. For the sin of this one man, Adam, brought death to many. But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and His gift of forgiveness to many through this other Man, Jesus Christ. And the result of God’s gracious gift is very different from the result of that one man’s sin. For Adam’s sin led to condemnation, but God’s free gift leads to our being made right with God, even though we are guilty of many sins. For the sin of this one man, Adam, caused death to rule over many. But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and His gift of righteousness, for all who receive it will live in triumph over sin and death through this one Man, Jesus Christ. Yes, Adam’s one sin brings condemnation for everyone, but Christ’s one act of righteousness brings a right relationship with God and new life for everyone. Because one person disobeyed God, many became sinners. But because one other person obeyed God, many will be made righteous. (NLT).

We may not have had a choice in receiving the sin virus. As descendents of Adam and Eve, all of their “programming” was passed down to us. Yet the Scripture tells us that because of what Jesus has done, we now have the ability to choose to receive the “antivirus software” that will clean up our “operating system,” or, to use the old analogy, combat the snake venom that causes death from within. This choice involves an act of faith, or trust, in God.

To receive “justification of life” means to be placed in right alignment[7] or right relationship with God. To be back in alignment with God is to be reconnected to him as the only Source of life. His indwelling Spirit can heal us from all of the damage done by sin. This healing is what salvation is all about.

But let’s clarify a little more how we can be healed. What exactly did Jesus do? Isaiah explains it this way:

Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; Yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned, every one, to his own way; and the LORD has laid on Him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth; He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth. (Isaiah 53:4, 7, NKJV).

God became a human being and, by his death, sacrificed himself on our behalf. He was wounded for our transgressions. We esteemed (we thought) that he was stricken by God, but surely, the God of love is not appeased with human sacrifices (see Micah 6). What is the reason for this great sacrifice, and how can we be saved by it?

Paul tells us that God made Jesus “to be sin for us” (2 Corinthians 5:21), and Isaiah says that the Lord has “laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:6). If we understand the root of the sin problem to be self-centeredness—or, in other words, an obsession with me, myself, and I—then we begin to understand one of the great purposes of Christ’s sacrifice.

Upon the Cross of Calvary hung a Man who was wrestling deep within himself. He was God, to be sure, but a God who was willing to give up all his prerogatives in order to be exposed to the temptations that have afflicted and decimated humanity. In Philippians 2:5-8 we read:

The attitude you should have is the one that Christ Jesus had: He always had the nature of God, but he did not think that by force he should try to remain equal with God. Instead of this, of his own free will he gave up all he had, and took the nature of a servant. He became like a human being and appeared in human likeness. He was humble and walked the path of obedience all the way to death—his death on the cross. (GNB).

At every point in his life, Jesus Christ was tempted as we are, to put himself and his needs and wants first.[8] Paul tells us that Jesus can “sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:14, 15, NKJV).

The source of human unhappiness is an obsession with self. Behind it is the central message that the devil has placed inside our heads. That central message is, “Look after number one, because you can’t trust God to look after you.” “Take matters into your own hands.” “Pay yourself first. Every cent that you earn, make sure that you spend it on yourself before you give it to some church, charity, or individual in need; and, even if you choose to give, make sure you do it to get some other payoff—such as honor and praise, or at least a tax-deductible receipt.” The sin problem all comes down to one common denominator—me, myself, and I.

The ultimate victory that Jesus won against self was achieved at the Cross. Can you imagine how great the temptation was when his enemies, mouthing the words of Satan, wagged their heads and said, “If you really are the Son of God, why don’t you come down from that Cross and prove it to us?” (Matthew 27:40, NIV). He was tempted to save himself from certain death, yet he refused. Everything that night, from his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane to the torture and mockery he endured at the hands of both the Romans and Jewish leaders, was calculated to make Jesus lose his cool and lash out with divine fury. But Jesus, filled with God’s Spirit, displayed only kindness and love toward others. In the face of human violence, Jesus never resorted to violence himself. He told Peter that night—who tried to defend him from the temple guard—to put his “sword in its place, for all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matthew 26:52, NKJV). Jesus knew his mission—to be faithful to God’s principles of other-focused love, even if it resulted in his own suffering and death.

Perhaps we are now prepared to tackle one of the more difficult passages in the Bible. Paul writes:

For what the law could not do in that it was weak through the flesh, God did by sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, on account of sin: He condemned sin in the flesh, that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. (Romans 8:3, 4, NKJV).

Why did Jesus have to sacrifice his life on our behalf? There is no way that sin-infected human beings could possibly live according to God’s law of self-sacrificial, other-focused love (i.e., to fulfill the “righteous requirements” of God’s law of love). No one, outside of Christ, meets that standard. When he bore humanity’s temptations throughout his life all the way to death, and by not succumbing to temptation, he “condemned our sinfulness in the flesh,” so to speak.

Jesus Christ is the first human being to perfectly display God’s self-sacrificial, other-centered love. He has become the “Author of Salvation” (Hebrews 5:9, NKJV)—the “anti-virus software” for the human mind. At the Cross, we see the malignant nature of the self-centered sin problem, which stands in dramatic contrast to the immeasurable other-centered love that was displayed by Jesus. Perhaps for the first time, the choice between the two ways of living becomes clear to us, and we find ourselves trusting God once again and entering into relationship with him. In this process, we are increasingly repulsed by Satan’s “me-myself-and-I kingdom,” we experience the healing union of a new relationship with God, and we begin to give and to serve others in the same way that Jesus did. Using the computer metaphor once again, this process is like “downloading the antivirus software into our system.”

The Book of Hebrews uses the metaphor of Christ as our “High Priest,” who is seated at the right hand of God (Hebrews 8:1). We are told that we can “come boldly to the throne of grace [and] obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:14-16, NKJV). To follow our analogy further, we may conclude that the role of “high priest” could be described as “technical support” in the process of eradicating the virus that contaminates our operating system (see also Hebrews 2:14-18).

Our healing (salvation) begins when we are “born again.” Jesus told Nicodemus that “the wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit” (John 3:6-8, NKJV). Being born again means to receive the “download” of the Holy Spirit. When God’s Spirit lives in us, a new personality is “born” within us—one that resembles the selfless and loving image of God himself. In fact, Jesus tells us that to receive the Holy Spirit is to receive him (John 14:17, 18). And to receive Jesus (to be in constant daily, prayerful union with him) is to receive salvation—the healing of our sin-sick hearts and minds.

Jesus invites us to “refresh our screens”—to see reality through new, clear screens, unpolluted with the virus of self-centeredness, to look into the heart of God and see One whom we can trust. This is what it means to be born again and to begin the process of healing our characters. The meaning of the word salvation is healing—to salvage what was broken. The moment we trust God and enter into a saving relationship with him, God’s Spirit is able to heal our sinful and broken characters.

I have found helpful four basic steps. The first one is confession. When we confess our sins to God and “look at that bronze serpent,” we acknowledge our own sinfulness and become willing to accept God’s remedy. Second, we recognize that Jesus’ death confirms that God was right all along when he warned us that our sin has horrible consequences and really does lead to death (Genesis 2:17). Third, we need to freely choose to accept the remedy that eradicates the destructive “virus” of selfishness as the only solution for our lives. Fourth, we need to trust Jesus to cleanse our hearts and minds. In Greek, the words believe and trust are both derived from the same root.[9] “God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16, NKJV, emphasis supplied). John says that whoever trusts in Jesus Christ will have everlasting life. Jesus is the only way to salvation and healing (John 14:6), because he revealed that God is trustworthy.

The revelation of the truth about God through Jesus Christ is not enough to heal our souls, however. We need to accept God’s remedy and “download his anti-virus software.” This means that we need to enter into an active, intimate, daily relationship with God via his Holy Spirit and let him work within us to heal our brokenness. Our character perfection is not a requirement to enter God’s kingdom but a natural outflow of the saving relationship with God—a beautiful promise to his children.

[1].  An Internet search request for “serpent lore” or “dragon lore” will turn up hundreds of sites detailing the huge interest in the subject from every corner of the world and from every historic time period.

[2].  See <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naga for excellent examples of seven-headed serpent/dragons>. See <http://www.raingod.com/angus/Gallery/Photos/Asia/Laos/LaodSculpture.html> for some more excellent photos.

[3].  See <http://www.patmospapers.com/revelatn/rev12.htm> for an image of a Ugaritic (Canaanite) representation of Lotan. See also Psalm 74:14 for a reference to Leviathan’s multiple heads.

[4].  See <http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/topics/Leviathan> for an extensive discussion on the topic. See also Job 3:8 and Job 41.

[5].  The Scripture nowhere states that Jesus experienced selfishness but that he was tempted and overcame. In him there was no propensity or bent toward sin—otherwise he could not become our Healer and Savior.

[6].  The word salvation and other related words such a salve and salvage come from the Latin “salvo.” It literally means “unbroken” or “undamaged.” Heal and the related word whole come to us via the Germanic root, “khailaz.” It also means “unbroken” or “undamaged.” (See Ayto’s Dictionary of Word Origins for more details.) Salvation is literally about taking that which has been damaged and restoring it back to wholeness.

[7].  To be in right alignment with God, in other words, to be right with him, is the actual meaning of the word justification.

[8].  One of the most fascinating stories in the Bible is the one where Jesus spent forty days fasting in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11)—a supreme example of self-denial. At the height of this test, the devil came to him saying, “If you really are the Son of God, prove it to me. Turn these stones into bread.” Implied was an unbelief that Jesus would ever be permitted to go without food. “Why don’t you look after yourself, since you supposedly have the power to do it?” The taunt, delivered at Jesus’ weakest moment, was designed to get him to succumb to the satanic virus—the temptation to be foremost concerned about self. But it did not work. Similarly, Satan took Jesus to the top of the temple to cast doubt upon his identity as the Son of God. He wanted to bring Jesus to prove to himself that he was indeed God’s Son, tempting him to throw himself off and claim his prerogatives to eternal life. Again, Jesus did not succumb to the temptation. Finally, in apparent desperation, Satan took Jesus to a great and high mountain where he basically said, “Look, Jesus, you don’t have to go through all of the suffering. Just bow down and worship me, and you will have all of the wealth and power of the world at your fingertips” (Matthew 4:9). The self-obsession that rules Satan’s mind came in stark contrast to the self-sacrificing nature of the God of love.

[9].  In Greek, “believe” is “pistewo,” “faith” is “pistis,” and “trust” or “hope” is “elpis.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

At-one-ment

DOROTHEE COLE

I pray not only for them, but also for those who believe in me because of their message. I pray that they may all be one. Father! May they be in us, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they be one, so that the world will believe that you sent me.

—John 17:20, 21, GNB

JAMES HAD BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT. Unnoticed and undisturbed, he would finally be able to examine and hold in his very own hands Caleb’s newly built Lego Agent helicopter set. As he lifted it out of the shelf, the unforeseeable happened as the delicate set slipped out of his little hands and crashed to the floor, completely destroyed.

After recovering from the initial shock, James ran to his room, grabbed his favorite Spiderman toy, placed it next to the broken set in Caleb’s shelf, and then quickly hid under his bed. In his mind, he needed to atone for his mistake and appease his brother’s anticipated anger. By offering up his precious Spiderman as a substitute, he hoped that Caleb would accept his gift and forgive him.

For many of us, atonement means what it meant to James—making amends for our mistakes and somehow repairing the injury that we have inflicted on someone else by either providing some kind of payment or by receiving an appropriate penalty. Ancient blood feuds are an extreme example of payment for an offense. When someone killed a member of the opposing tribe, even if it was by accident, the injured party felt entitled to kill a member of the other tribe as compensation, to establish peace.

This sounds extreme to our postmodern Western ears, yet widely used Wikipedia tells us that atonement “refers to the forgiving or pardoning of sin through the death of Jesus Christ by crucifixion.”[1] Is Jesus’ death on the Cross just like a blood feud payment, where the death of the innocent one atones for somebody else’s sin as a way to avoid God’s wrath? One thing we know for sure—the death of Jesus Christ on Calvary did atone for our sins in some way. The “how” is our question.

As we try to understand how God worked to repair the deep divide between himself and humanity, our answer should always rest on the universal truth that “God is love” and that “in him there is no darkness at all” (1 John 4:16; 1:5, NIV). But one commonly held view of the atonement can paint a very dark picture of God. Roberta Bondi recalls her evangelistic experience as a child:

The goal of a revival was to create or revive in everybody the three-fold conviction that each of us was so rotten to the core that we deserved to die and roast in hell forever; that God was enraged at us enough to kill us; and finally, that, in spite of everything, God loved us enough to rescue us by sending his son as a sacrifice in our place…[this view of God] consumes you with anger

…renders you passive…wallows you in depression…keeps you from loving and knowing yourself to be loved.[2]

Our explanation of the atonement must never leave implications about God’s character that promote fear, distrust, and separation from him, making him out to be an angry deity who needs appeasement.

A Historical Perspective

Let’s spend a few minutes examining this word atonement and see what it’s made of. Perhaps originally derived from the Latin ad (“to,” “at”) and unum (“one”), the word atone comes from the Middle English word atonen, which means “in accord,” or literally, “at one.” In the sixteenth century, “to at-one” was used in the sense of achieving unity, or reconciliation, between two parties and was pronounced “atwun.”[3] Shakespeare used this term in his writings to describe the sense of making up or reaching reconciliation.[4] The original meaning of the word atonement simply means “at-one-ment,” in the sense of two parties experiencing “one-ness” or accord.

While the word atonement is missing completely from many of the modern translations, William Tyndale, the Bible translator, introduced it into his 1526 translation of the English Bible. The King James Version, which is mostly taken from the original Tyndale Bible,[5] uses the word atonement only once, in Romans 5:11. Translated from the Greek word katallagē, it means “restoration” or “reconciliation,”[6] analogous to the original meaning of “one-ness.”[7]

Despite its rare New Testament occurrence, the term atonement has somehow become a theological staple to define the implications and explanations for Jesus’ death. A plethora of expressions has been used to describe the Cross and to explicate its meaning, ranging from the appeasement of an angry god—propitiation (making us favorable in God’s sight) and expiation (to make pious, implying the removal or cleansing of sin)—to making amends by the payment of a legal debt or penalty to satisfy divine justice. Unfortunately, the simple “one-ness” and “accord” between God and humans is missing in the above explanations of why Jesus came to earth and why he had to die. When Jesus called to his Father, “I pray that they may all be one. Father! May they be in us, just as you are in me and I am in you” (John 17:21), he was speaking of the essence found in the atonement—of people who are in harmonious unity with God and completely reconciled to him. Thus, atonement speaks of a relationship that God is trying to establish through his intense and personal involvement with humanity, particularly during his three-and-a-half-year sojourn in Galilee as a human being. Given that the word atonement has acquired so many varying connotations that are not implicit in the original text, modern translations of Romans 5:11 accurately chose “reconciliation” (NRSV, NIV), “Christ has made us friends of God” (NLT), and “restored relationship” (GW), instead of the King James’ “atonement.”

Relationship with God

Human relationships tend to change over time, morphing from one category into another, as people get to know each other. For example, when a physician interacts with a medical student, their interaction is purely defined by a teacher-student relationship. But if the medical student becomes ill and the physician prescribes a treatment, the relationship between them expands and now includes a physician-patient relationship. When the medical student becomes a physician herself, a friendship may then develop. The rules that applied to the first stage of the relationship (i.e., students shouldn’t talk to teachers without respectfully addressing them as “Doctor”) don’t apply anymore, since the relationship has now developed into the more intimate category of friendship.

The Bible uses many different illustrations to describe our relationship with God. Important to remember is that these symbolic representations are for our benefit, not God’s. These word pictures have the sole purpose of bringing us closer to God, picking up from whatever point we find ourselves in our relationship with God. Some passages emphasize hierarchy without much emotional attachment, such as in the master-servant (Matthew 24:46), king-subject (Psalm 47:6, 7), owner-slave (Romans 6:18; Galatians 6:17[8]), and judge-accused relationships (Psalm 75:6, 7; Daniel 7:10). Other descriptions, while still keeping a certain hierarchy in place, communicate a yearning quality in which God seeks to protect, care for, and bestow affection upon us. These verses emphasize a desire for intimacy on God’s part, revealing a God who is like a caring vineyard owner (Isaiah 5:7), a protective mother hen (Matthew 23:37), a loving shepherd (Hebrews 13:20), a caring physician (Psalm 23; Hebrews 13:20) and a loving father (Hosea 11:1-4; 1 John 3:1).

As amazing as it is to be called God’s child, the Bible doesn’t stop here. At times, the relationship between God and his people may seem almost inappropriately intimate—God likens us to his lover, his bride (Revelation 21:2). God’s emotions amidst our unfaithfulness are likened to a man who feels betrayed by his prostitute wife, whom he still desires (Hosea 1:2; 2:2).

Most unexpected, however, is to find out that God even reverses the hierarchical relationship between himself and us. We see our Master, Jesus, becoming our Servant (Mark 10:45; John 13:4; Luke 12:37); the One who was our Judge, now being on trial (Romans 3:4); the One who has the power to kill, now becoming the slaughtered Lamb (Acts 8:32).

We can say with confidence that God does want us to grow in our relationship with him, the new continually replacing the old. Jesus told us, “I do not call you servants any longer, because servants do not know what their master is doing. Instead, I call you friends, because I have told you everything I heard from my Father” (John 15:15, GNB, emphasis supplied). The atonement describes a process in which we are the ones changing with respect to our relationship with God. As we get to know God more intimately, our distrust for him is replaced with trust; our master-servant relationship takes on the nature of a loving marriage between two best friends.

Sin: At-one-ment Destroyed

When God placed the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden, Adam and Eve were free to disobey God (Genesis 3:1, 4, 5). Satan’s lies cut right through the heart of the relationship between the first humans and their Creator. Enticed by a desire for self-improvement,[9] they were led to believe that God was a restrictive, self-interested liar who threatened to kill when disobeyed. As their trust was broken, Adam and Eve doubted that God had their best interest at heart, and the relationship with their Creator was now dominated by fear (Genesis 3:10). Adam and Eve, who once cherished one-ness in mind and flesh, began to blame each other and God (Genesis 2:24; 3:12). Their sense of separation from God drove them into self-preservation mode, and selfishness and survival of the fittest became the ruling principles on earth. Within a very short time, this world was engulfed in chaos, and everyone was bent toward evil all the time (Genesis 6:11).

Sin, by its biblical definition, is a distrustful, rebellious attitude that leads to lawlessness (1 John 3:4).[10] It springs from a heart motivated by fear instead of trust (Romans 14:23). It distorts our picture of God to the point that it causes us to be separated from the only One who is able to heal us (Isaiah 59:2). But God’s plan of reconciliation immediately went into action to reach down to the depths of the most sinful human heart. When understood in this way, we recognize that the atonement is not limited to the Cross. The entire biblical record, culminating in the story of Jesus, is the evidence of God’s attempts to reconnect with humanity. The Cross is the ultimate demonstration of how far God is willing to go to convince us of the trustworthiness of his character. Our Liberator leaves no stone unturned to persuade us of his goodness and love and to remove all of our mistrust, fear, and rebellion.

The Foundation for Atonement: the Knowledge of God

Trust and love, the basic ingredients for a healthy relationship, can only be achieved when we know the person we have a relationship with. The biblical meaning of   “to know” implies much more than acquaintance.[11] It implies a mutual and intimate friendship that is based on trust—trust that has been established by much evidence of trustworthiness over a long time and in a variety of situations.[12] In fact, it would be inadvisable and outright dangerous to trust someone who has not proven himself to be trustworthy. For example, it would be unwise to entrust your child to a family member who has previously been accused of child abuse. Despite insisting on his trustworthiness, you would be reluctant to allow him to babysit her, and rightfully so. Only by demonstrating trustworthiness over a long time and in a variety of situations can trust be reestablished.

In the same way, God does not ask us to trust him without substantive evidence. How did Jesus’ life and death provide such compelling evidence about God’s character? Jesus not only came to reveal the Father—Jesus himself is God! In Jesus, God demonstrated to the universe that he came not to be served but to serve (John 13:12), not to judge but to allow himself to be judged by us (John 5:22; Roman 3:4), not to condemn but to be condemned, not to accuse but to be accused, not to kill but to die at the hands of his own creatures while lavishing unsolicited forgiveness upon them (Luke 23:34). By living and dying as a human being, God did everything he could do to facilitate at-one-ment between himself and broken humanity.

From Eden to the Incarnation: God’s Quest for At-one-ment

After the Fall and the cascading events that led to a state of chaos, God entered into a covenant with Abraham and promised one day to restore at-one-ment with the entire human race. But for the most part, Abraham’s descendants refused to trust their God. The story of Israel is a sad one—a people God chose to represent him to the world, protected and instructed by many prophets, yet preferring the ways of the nations around them and persecuting the ones who spoke for God (Acts 7:52).

Despite Israel’s unfaithfulness, God remained faithful. He ultimately joined the human race as a baby. Immanuel—God with us, condescending and mingling with his people! God did not leave us in the depth of human misery alone. Instead, he identifies with us, joining and collaborating with us amidst our sin and destruction. G. E. Fifield, a nineteenth-century theologian, describes this beautiful love story:

But when Jesus came, he was God with us,—with us in sorrow, for he was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; with us in joy, for he, too, rejoiced at the wedding feast; with us in childhood, for he was a child, and even the child’s timid prayer can reach his heart; with us in youth, for he knows all its slippery paths, all its haunting fears, that so silently take the place of the fleeting phantoms of its high ideals, and high hopes unrealized; with us in poverty, for he had not where to lay his head; with us in work and weariness, for he was a carpenter, and the son of a carpenter; with us in persecution, for he was led as a lamb to the slaughter; with us in the sad hour of final parting from the loved ones, for did he not on the cross say to John, “Behold thy mother”? With us when our faith almost fails, for did not he, too, say in anguish of spirit, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” With us in the dark valley of death, for he “likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil.” Ah, yes! He was “Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” How the devil’s falsehoods flee as we behold God revealed in Jesus Christ! How the estranged soul comes back to its native home, and becomes at one with God![13]

The immortal God became a mortal man; the sinless One became sin for us (2 Corinthians 5:21), with the ultimate goal that we may finally know him intimately as a Friend. In Jesus, the covenant that began with Abraham was amplified to reach “everyone”:

“The day is coming,” says the LORD, “when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah. This covenant will not be like the one I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand and brought them out of the land of Egypt. They broke that covenant, though I loved them as a husband loves his wife,” says the LORD.

“And they will not need to teach their neighbors, nor will they need to teach their relatives, saying, ‘You should know the LORD.’ For everyone, from the least to the greatest, will know Me already,” says the LORD. (Jeremiah 31:31, 32, 34, NLT).

After the Fall, Adam and Eve hid in the bushes for fear of God. Their concept of God was not of One who would spend nine months in a womb and then three days in a tomb. The life and death of Jesus are God’s crowning act of bringing us out of the bushes and into a love relationship with him, again reconciled and at-one.

The Cross: How Did Jesus’ Death Achieve At-one-ment between God and Humanity?

The meaning of the cruel death of God in human form could fill volumes. However we understand Christ’s death, it’s important to realize that nowhere in the Bible is it suggested that the Cross changed God. God’s attitude toward his broken and rebellious children has never been influenced or strengthened. God has never been appeased by any sort of offering, as is typical of pagan deities. Even the sanctuary service, which demanded the death of a lamb, was not an appeasement but rather a symbol that was meant to teach us of the natural consequences of sin (Hebrews 10:3) and what God was about to do about it. God was not persuaded to act differently toward us by the death of Christ. God is the same in character in the Old Testament as in the New—he is “the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows” (James 1:17, NIV). The death of Christ was God’s way of reconciling the world to himself in and through Christ (2 Corinthians 5:19). God was never against us but has always been for us (Roman 8:32). God has never been our enemy, but we were his enemies. We were rebellious and mistrustful of him, because our minds were darkened by misconceptions of his character.

1. Thoughts on the Legal (Penal Substitutionary) View

Many Christians have undoubtedly found comfort in a legal understanding of atonement and salvation. Jesus died in our place to fulfill the righteous demands of the law, which requires the death penalty for those who sin. Jesus paid the price, giving himself as a ransom so we can now be saved. Jesus once and for all paid for the sins of all of humanity by offering his pure and holy blood, thereby legally ensuring the salvation of those who accept his payment for their sins.   While there are certainly a number of Bible passages that seem to support this view, we must remember that we are still dealing with a metaphor—in this case, a juridical one—to explain the atonement to us, which does not necessarily provide a comprehensive and complete picture of the atonement. For example, how does a legal blood payment actually set us free from our own sin? Does it stop us from lying and killing each other? Also, we must be careful not to imply that God’s anger was appeased by Jesus’ blood. Pagan gods are known for destroying disobedient people unless some innocent blood flows, which, in other cultures, has even led to child sacrifices (2 Kings 3:27).

This juridical view that God demands payment sometimes relates to “justice” and “the law” as if they were themselves entities that needed to be satisfied. Likewise, the need for atonement springs from an understanding of sin primarily as breaking God’s rules. “Sin is bad” because the judge doesn’t like it (i.e., God is offended by it). The sin of our first parents, using this model, was the ingestion of forbidden fruit rather than a breakdown of their trusting relationship with God. The prospect of pardon by the judge becomes the primary focus, and our relationship with God remains at the level of judge and pardoned sinner.

The problem that frequently occurs in this legal transaction model is that we tend to overlook the foundational emphasis of restored relationship in the teachings of Jesus. Jesus makes it clear that his mission was to reveal God so that we might know him and have eternal life (John 17:3, 4). Yet the predominant understanding of the atonement in Christianity today remains that of a courtroom model in which Christ fulfilled the demands of God’s law by taking the penalty for sin upon himself, thereby becoming our legal substitute. People often see Jesus as “their friend in court” who defends them before his Father. But is a pardoned crook really interested in having a “relationship” with the judge? Wouldn’t he or she desire to stay as far away from that judge as possible? After all, the judge might change his mind. Too many individuals in history would prefer to join Elihu, who tried to defend God before Job, yet at the same time desired to stay as far away from him as possible: “I won’t ask to speak with God; why should I give him a chance to destroy me?” (Job 37:20, GNB). But the life of Jesus shows us that the Father himself loves us (John 16:27) and that he wants to heal us from the destruction that sin has caused. This healing can only happen through a loving relationship.

When we see the sin problem primarily in legal terms, we intuitively suggest that God the Father operates on a tit-for-tat rule—the very eye-for-an-eye principle that Jesus came to do away with (Matthew 5:38). For example, suppose that I owe my neighbor $100 but can’t pay it off. He holds this against me until finally my brother pays the debt in my place, which then leads my neighbor to “forgive” me. This scenario does not describe real forgiveness, which involves releasing a debt rather than “collecting payment” from a third party.

In addition, if the legal, tit-for-tat punishment for sin is eternal hellfire, how then can we say that Jesus’ death adequately paid this penalty? In these examples, we see how important it is that our understanding of the atonement does not in any way detract from the core belief that whoever has seen Jesus has seen the Father (John 14:9). If we imply that one member of the Trinity (God the Father) was paid by another (Jesus), we deny the most foundational teaching of Jesus (John 17:4, 6).

Having pointed out certain dangers of viewing the atonement in mere legal terms, we do need to wrestle with a number of Bible verses that appear to support a legal point of view. For example, we are told that Christ is “the payment for our sins” (1 John 2:2) and that he gave his life as “a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:28). Some translations state that God made Christ “to be a propitiation[14] through faith in his blood” (Romans 3:25) and that he “made him who had no sin to be sin for us” (2 Corinthians 5:21, NIV).

True, Jesus paid a heavy price for sin by giving himself as a ransom for humanity. However, we must be clear that this price was not a payment to the Father or to the devil or to an abstract law, but the price the Father himself paid to save us from our sin. In other words, God, through Jesus, paid the heavy price of entering into a world of suffering—a world he never envisioned or desired. God paid a high price indeed when he identified with humanity, becoming “the Son of Man” and experiencing all of the suffering that we experience, including death. God himself paid a heavy price to demonstrate his love, despite our rejection of him, so that we might be persuaded of his trustworthiness and the power of his Kingdom of unselfish, other-centered love. The “ransom” of Christ’s life was simply the price the Father paid to redeem us from the power of Satan’s lies that controlled us.

When we consider the high cost of sin—fear, rebellion, suffering, and the need to destroy others in order to feed self, all culminating in the destruction that has wreaked havoc on this planet—we can see that legally forgiving sinners won’t fix the problem. By dying, Christ didn’t merely satisfy an abstract law; rather, he validated the ultimate Law of Love that is the very transcript of God’s own character—the Law that says you are to love your neighbor as yourself (Luke 10:27). In this highest sense, he himself did what the law required, for “there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13, NLT).

Despite its pitfalls, the legal view of the atonement does give comfort in certain situations. For instance, when we, in our alienation from God, regard him as the one who brings forth the charge against us, the legal transaction model that regards Christ’s blood as the payment for our sins may reassure us that we are now released from our debt and declared innocent in court. Once we realize, however, that the defendant in court is God himself, that he was never against us in the first place (Romans 8:31-34), and that he is trying to save us from our very real sin that is destroying us from within, we begin to regard God more as a Friend, Father, and Healer.

A very real legal dimension to the atonement exists that is not often emphasized. Even in our world today, when confronted with an accuser who brings a legal charge, we are automatically operating in a legal framework. This principle applies to the heavenly court, as well. We must be clear, however, that this accuser is not God (Romans 8:31). Rather, it is God’s enemy, Satan, who is the plaintiff; and he has put God on trial (Romans 3:4; Revelation 14:7), as well as humanity (Zechariah 3:1-5). Though I do not believe that God regards us and our salvation from sin in any kind of legal framework, Christ’s death destroyed Satan’s contrived plan (1 John 3:8) built up to accuse us in the heavenly courts. In this sense, the forensic component to Christ’s death quiets the accuser, who brought the charge against God and humanity before the onlooking universe. Christ beat the devil on all counts, so to speak, including a legal one.

2. The Cross Affects Us Individually, As Well As the Corporate Universe

On an individual level, Christ’s death on the Cross revealed the lengths to which God would go to rescue us from our rebellious, mistrustful state called sin. As we open ourselves up to God’s Spirit in loving trust, we begin to experience unity with him.

In a corporate sense, God vindicated his character before the entire universe, rightfully taking back ownership of this world.[15] Jesus became the “new Adam,” so to speak—the new representative of the human race (1 Corinthians 15:47). He proved to the onlooking universe—humans and angels—that he is “the good shepherd, who is willing to die for the sheep” (John 10:11, GNB). “The greatest love you can have for your friends is to give your life for them” (John 15:13, GNB). God proved that he has this order of love for us—a love stronger than death. This new and radical picture of God revealed at the Cross is God’s ultimate act of reaching at-one-ment with humanity and the angelic world. Christ’s death was the climax of his life—the crowning performance of God’s relentless endeavor to reconcile all of his intelligent creatures to himself (John 12:32). The Cross forever declares God as the Victor in the cosmic conflict against Satan. In Jesus, God not only convinces humans of his trustworthiness; equally importantly, he defeated Satan and is now the rightful ruler of this earth in the minds of the angelic host (Colossians 1:20; 2:15; John 12:31, 32; 1 John 3:8). God’s character has been on trial before the universe (Romans 3:4); the Cross forever demonstrates that God and his law of self-sacrificial, other-centered love can be trusted (Ephesians 1:10).

3. The Cross Exposed the Devil for Who He Really Is

The Cross revealed the character of God’s enemy; it was God’s move to checkmate the devil by exposing him as a murderer from the very beginning. Throughout his life, Jesus exposed Satan and those who espoused his principles.

For you are the children of your father the devil, and you love to do the evil things he does. He was a murderer from the beginning. He has always hated the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, it is consistent with his character; for he is a liar and the father of lies. (John 8:44, NLT).

Christ died “so that through his death he might destroy the Devil, who has the power over death” (Hebrews 2:14, GNB). Just before his death, Jesus told his disciples, “Now is the critical moment of this world. Now the ruler of this world will be exposed” (John 12:44, emphasis supplied).[16] Yet the powers of darkness continue to be a threat to people today. By dying, Christ conquered the devil in principle by exposing him to be a liar and a murderer before the inhabitants of the universe. When this knowledge of God motivates us to enter into an intimate relationship with him through his Spirit, we are able to overcome Satan’s influence within our lives (Luke 10:19).

4. The Cross Revealed the Two Governing Principles on Earth

The Cross exposes the diametrically opposed ruling principles of God and Satan. The other-focused, self-sacrificial love of the Servant God shines in stark contrast to the prideful and ambitious manipulator of the survival-of-the-fittest principle. The God who washes dirty feet is willing to die for his creatures. How different from the creature Satan, who did not shrink from asking his Creator to worship him (Matthew 4:9)! The gentle persuasion by the God who values our freedom stands in strong opposition to the methods of force, fear, and coercion that Satan uses. These opposing principles were clearly revealed at the Tree of Knowledge and at the Cross. In the end, our affiliation with the respective sides of the conflict is revealed by the methods we use, as well. We may proclaim the name of Jesus with our words, but if our methods include coercion and force, we become counterproductive to God’s Kingdom and inadvertently take sides with God’s enemy.

5. How Did Our Sin Kill Christ?

Much debate has occurred over what actually killed Christ. Some believe that Jesus merely died from crucifixion at the hands of the Romans, who were driven by the Pharisees, who in turn were driven by satanic hatred. Others point out that Jesus died too quickly (within six hours of hanging on the cross and much sooner than the two thieves who were crucified with him),[17] implying that more than a crucifixion was at work. We can find certain biblical allusions to the fact that Christ may have experienced a unique kind of death, in the sense that he died of the consequences of our sin.[18]

For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him. (2 Corinthians 5:21, NLT).

Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for[19] our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed. (Isaiah 53:4, 5, NLT).

He was handed over to die because of our sins, and He was raised to life to make us right with God. (Romans 4:25, NLT).

Because sin is a rebellious, mistrustful attitude toward God and his law of love, it is specific to each individual affected by it. When we say that Jesus “took our sin,” or that “our sin was upon him,” we must not take this to understand that sin is some sort of commodity that can be transferred from one person to another. Perhaps this figurative language indicates that Jesus, though sinless himself, died from the consequences of the world’s sin. Not only did Jesus assume the responsibility of the sinner’s fate, he also experienced the consequences of that sinful separation from God—a sense of the darkness of God-forsakenness that caused him to cry out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Mark 15:34). Here, Jesus showed us what happens when at-one-ment is completely and totally shattered. Jesus died, not because the Father killed his Son; rather, it was the awful sense of separation from the Source of life that Jesus was allowed to experience that brought about his expedient death. God did not kill his Son to satisfy a legal penalty, but God in Jesus Christ, himself descended into the depths of the human experience all the way to its worst possible outcome. Through Jesus’ death, we can be assured of how God will treat rebellious sinners in the end; just as Jesus was “given over” to die (Romans 4:25), God, honoring our free will, will “give over” the rebellious to the consequences of their own choices. They will experience the darkness of God-forsakenness that leads to everlasting death. The Cross should persuade us that God is not the destructive agent in the final death; rather, it is their own choice to be separated from God that will destroy them (Ezekiel 18:30).[20]

Why is this understanding of sin’s inherent ability to destroy (as opposed to God destroying us) so important, and how does it aid in our understanding of the atonement? A medical analogy may help to clarify this. Imagine that the commonly held perception in the world today was that pneumonia was dangerous primarily because doctors punish patients who develop pneumonia. Instead of fearing the infection that is spreading throughout their lungs, patients feared that the physician would inflict pain and punishment rather than provide the remedy. While this sounds ridiculous, if you were to ask many people, “What’s wrong with sin?” the answer frequently given is that God will punish sin in hell for all of eternity. Rarely is the assumption made that sin itself is destructive and harmful.

God is like a physician who has the remedy for our rebellious and distrustful attitude toward him. Although sinless, Jesus took the “infection” of sin and rebellion upon himself and suffered the results by experiencing the terrible consequences of sin. By enduring that morbid sense of God-forsakenness and despair, Jesus revealed to us that sin kills, not God. This understanding reconciles us to God, because we no longer fear him as the punisher but instead can turn to him as our Healer.

6. The Cross As Remedy

In Gethsemane, Jesus was wrestling with the temptation to abandon his self-sacrificial plan: “‘Father,’ he prayed, ‘my Father! All things are possible for you. Take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet not what I want, but what you want’” (Mark 14:36, GNB). And while hanging on the Cross, Satan hurled temptations at Jesus through his scoffers in a last attempt to thwart Jesus’ plan: “You were going to tear down the Temple and build it back up in three days! Save yourself if you are God’s Son! Come on down from the cross” (Matthew 27:40, GNB, emphasis supplied).

In his humanity, the Son of God was tempted like as we are—tempted to consider his own interests over the interests of others (Hebrews 4:15). Unlike us, however, Christ’s intimate knowledge of and relationship with God gave him the strength to overcome those temptations. On the Cross, Christ used no supernatural powers. As the new one-of-a-kind Son of Man, Christ was victorious over selfish human tendencies (Matthew 26:39) and became the first human being to consistently live out God’s law of love. Because of Christ’s victory over sin, this new kind of humanity fashioned after Christ can be re-created within us with the help of the Holy Spirit. Those who trust God and cooperate with his healing Spirit will be given the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16).[21]

7. The Cross Demonstrates the Danger of Legalism

Despite the fact that the Cross is often viewed as a legal transaction to pay for our sins, it actually makes a strong case against legalism. The Pharisees, who were the driving force for Jesus’ death, were some of the most legalistic people in history. They kept the Sabbath, read their Bibles faithfully, ate the right foods, paid exact tithe on herbs, and were eager missionaries (Matthew 12:2; 23:15, 23, 24). The Cross demonstrates that a legalistic keeping of the Ten Commandments will never bring us closer to God and will, in fact, be detrimental if it is not accompanied by an intimate knowledge and love of God.

8. The Cross and Substitution

While it is true that Jesus died in our place, it is not biblical to imply that God, in his anger, punished Jesus instead of us. “All the while we thought that his suffering was punishment sent by God. But because of our sins he was wounded” (Isaiah 53:4, 5, GNB, emphasis supplied). The substitution of Christ was such that he was willing to become a human and to experience the terrible consequences of separation from God. Had he not come to earth and demonstrated his willingness to die for us, we would not have known God or understood the consequences of separation from God, and we would have died in our sins. Through Christ, God substituted himself to endure the mental, physical, and spiritual consequences of sinful humanity—to die so that we might live, to give us hope and eternal life through the knowledge of God (John 17:3).

9. The Cross: Our Hope in Despair

Right before his death, Jesus cried, “Father, into your hands I entrust my spirit” (Luke 23:46, GW). Even though Jesus felt forsaken by God (Matthew 27:46), trust in his Father was stronger than his emotions. He knew that the safest place for him was in his Father’s hands. The revelation of God through Jesus Christ gives us assurance that no matter how we might feel and no matter what we have done, we know that God is trustworthy and that there is no safer place for us than in his hands. In Jesus, we have seen God. Our knowledge of God will guide us through the most difficult times in life as well.

The Resurrection and At-one-ment

According to Paul, Jesus “was raised to life to make us right with God” (Romans 4:25). Christ’s physical resurrection deepens our trust in God. Had Jesus not risen from death, we would not have believed that he is truly God. And we would have thought that God is either incapable of raising Jesus from death, or that he was unwilling to do so. Either of those would have hampered our trust in God and thereby our ability to be in unity with him. The Resurrection not only gives us assurance that God is trustworthy; it also proves that Jesus has power over death and power to restore his creation. Jesus himself said that he had the power to lay down his life and to raise it up again (John 2:19, 20).

In addition, the Resurrection gives us confidence that Jesus’ words—“I am always with you until the end of time”—are really true. The same Jesus who walked on this earth 2,000 years ago is alive today. He’s not simply a historical Jesus, but he is with us in a very real and intimate way.

Jesus’ resurrection is a promise that God will resurrect us too (1 Thessalonians 4:14; Romans 6:5). The power at work at his resurrection will not only resurrect our physical bodies someday but is already at work within us now, transforming our characters into Christ’s likeness (Ephesians 1:18-20).

The Resurrection empowers us to live according to God’s principles and to love even our enemies. The need to defend self becomes obsolete, because our trust in God’s restoring power takes away the sting of death (1 Corinthians 15:55). When we live in the power of the Resurrection, we no longer fear aging, disease, or death, because the promise of a new, eternal life in God’s presence brings hope, comfort, and joy. Realizing that Jesus is alive today and that he is God removes our fear and brings us into ever-growing unity with our God.

Peace on Earth

Our fear, mistrust, and separation from God have caused us to mistrust, fear, and hate each other. In Christ, God came to heal us and bring all things in heaven and on earth into at-one-ment (Ephesians 1:10). Ultimately, a binding and close unity is to exist between us and our fellow humans. With one Father, we are to be brothers and sisters of the same Parent, free to love each other with selfless, other-focused love. Full and complete at-one-ment is not reached until we learn to view each other with the same eyes that God views us—with a nonjudgmental, tender-hearted, Calvary-like love, without regard for race, religion, socioeconomic status, gender, or country of origin (Galatians 3:28). Only when we are at-one with each other in Christ will there truly be peace on earth.

When God’s people begin to operate by the ways of his Kingdom, exemplified by Christ’s self-sacrificial life and death, we will experience God’s secret truth—Christ in us, the spiritual resurrection of his body on earth (Ephesians 5:32; 4:16). This is at-one-ment in its highest sense: God’s Spirit within his friends, revealing God’s character to a power-dominated, violent, and hungry world through their lives of self-sacrificial, Calvary-like service and love.

[1].  See <http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/atonement and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atonement_in_Christianity>.

[2].  Roberta C. Bondi. Memories of God: Theological Reflections on a Life (Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1995), 116, 144.

[3].  See Modern Language Association (MLA): “atone.” Online Etymology Dictionary. Douglas Harper, Historian. 01 Oct. 2008. <Dictionary.com http://dictionary-reference.com/browse/atone>.

[4].  See At-one-ment. On Language. By Philologos. Wed. Sep 19, 2007. <http://www.forward.com/articles/11632/>.

[5].  Ronald Mansbridge: The Percentage of Words in the Geneva and King James Versions taken from Tyndale’s translation. <http://www.tyndale.org/TSJ/3/mansbridge.html>.

[6].  James Strong. Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2009).

[7].  The New Living Translation of the Bible, of Romans 5:11, conveys the original meaning of the word atonement very accurately: “So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God.”

[8].  I’m using this verse as an example of language depicting a hierarchical relationship void of attachment. Paul, however, extensively used language in other places that expressed an emotional attachment to God.

[9].  Satan’s implied message in Genesis 3 was that God is restrictive, that he had lied, and that he hadn’t made Adam and Eve good enough, or at least that they could in some way be improved by eating the fruit.

[10].  Lawlessness = anomia (Greek).

[11].  The phrase to know has a rather intimate meaning in the Bible—“Adam knew Eve his wife; and she conceived.” Similarly, Jesus warned us about the time when he will say to those who reject his teaching, “I never knew you. Get away from me, you wicked people!” (Matthew 7:23, GNB).

[12].  Thanks to A. Graham Maxwell for emphasizing this concept in his Bible studies.

[13].  G. E. Fifield. God Is Love, chapter 13, “The Atonement” (Redlands, CA: HeavenlySanctuary.com, 2008)  70, 71.

[14].  For a detailed explanation of the use of the word propitiation in Romans 3:25, please refer to Chapter 21, “Difficult New Testament Passages,” footnote #2.

[15].  As opposed to the individual aspect of the atonement, which morally influences us to trust God, this corporate aspect can be seen as an objective part of the atonement process. In Jesus, God’s character is publically proven trustworthy, which brings about an objective change of lordship for humanity.

[16].  Jo-Ann Brant. Commentaries on the New Testament: John (Ada, MI: Baker Academic, 2011), 194.

[17].  The thieves had their legs broken to accelerate their death from asphyxiation, so the Jews could get ready for the Sabbath day. Typically, the crucifixion provided a particularly slow and painful death; however, it is possible that the scourging of Jesus prior to crucifixion caused him to be more vulnerable.

[18].  Thanks to A. Graham Maxwell for this emphasis (www.pineknoll.org).

[19].  Other translations prefer “because of,” which emphasizes the fact that it was not God who killed Christ but that our sin was responsible for his death. The CEV translation correctly emphasizes that we falsely believed that God was punishing Christ: “He suffered and endured great pain for us, but we thought his suffering was punishment from God. He was wounded and crushed because of our sins; by taking our punishment, he made us completely well” (Isaiah 53:4, 5, emphasis supplied).

[20].  For a detailed discussion on the concept of God’s wrath, please see Chapter 25, “The Wrath of the Lamb.”

[21].  Thanks to Dr. Tim Jennings for a detailed discussion on this view (www.comeandreason.com).

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Roots of Legal Metaphors for Atonement and Salvation

JEAN SHELDON

TERRIFIED, MARTIN LAY ON THE ROAD, clutching the ground as lightning struck all around him and thunder crashed and rolled throughout the heavens. Thinking his end was near, Martin desperately cried out with a bargain to save his soul: “Save me, St. Anna, and I will become a monk!” This was the beginning of many years when Martin tried every means to gain assurance of his salvation from divine wrath. Martin Luther’s journey eventually led him to the radical discovery that salvation comes by grace through faith. The concept that Jesus has satisfied God’s justice meant that divine wrath was now dealt with, and Luther no longer had to work to appease an offended God.

Many since have found the views of Martin Luther, John Calvin, and others deeply satisfying and reassuring of salvation. Though this book offers quite a different perspective on atonement and salvation than the traditional juridical understanding of Jesus’ death, it is appropriate now to explore this well-appreciated model of law and grace. How far back does this model go? Did it really begin with Luther and Calvin? Or does it have ties to earlier Christian beliefs? And do those beliefs, in turn, have roots going back to the Old Testament? How far back do they go? Is it possible that the earliest links to the forensic model lie in the origins of ancient law found in the cradle of civilization? Before heading that way, let’s first make sure we understand the basic notions belonging to the legal perspective.

Most Christians agree that sin is a problem, but the difference between the various salvation models centers on the way God deals with the sin problem. The belief in a legal atonement (also referred to as the forensic or objective atonement) rests on the premise that, while God is merciful, he is also holy and cannot tolerate sin Thus a holy, sin-hating God is required to punish sin and dispense justice to sinners. At the same time, God loves sinners and wants to save them, but how can he do so without compromising his holiness? In justice, sinners deserve to be punished for their sins; they cannot simply be forgiven. The only way out of this problem, given the requirements of the law, is to punish sin in the person of his Son. So God gives Jesus his Son to become our Substitute, bearing our sins and the penalty we deserve on the Cross and thus making a way for him to exercise forgiveness without shortchanging his holiness. His death fully pays for our sins, satisfying both his justice and his wrath and enabling us to receive God’s righteousness.

Not everyone agrees with the finer points of this view. Some hold that Jesus’ death appeased the Father’s wrath;[1] others, such as John Stott, believe that God “satisfies Himself—both his love and wrath.”[2] Still others view God’s wrath as the “counterpart of his love.”[3] In any case, whatever variations are held, there is a basic belief that there is a sharp difference—if not a conflict—between God’s love and his justice or wrath that somehow must be satisfied or reconciled. The required end is a change in God’s attitude.[4]

Long before Luther and Calvin, forensic salvation had precedents—beginning with Tertullian, who is referred to as the father of Latin theology. Trained in Roman law, Tertullian developed the view, shared with others such as Ambrose and Hilary, that Jesus’ death made satisfaction for God’s law. Later, in the twelfth century, Anselm of Canterbury developed the “satisfaction theory,” built on the feudal order of the day, in which Christ’s death as penal justice satisfied God’s honor. Thomas Aquinas determined that punishment was to be established as “exact equivalence.”[5] In each case, the various views were heavily influenced by the legal and/or governmental systems of the day and built upon popular perceptions of justice and punishment.[6]

Since it would take much time and space to maneuver through the differences held by various proponents of this view, it seems best to enumerate some of its traditional ingredients. Let’s compare these elements with beliefs held from very ancient times—beliefs that have influenced the way human beings have come to see God. This will help us to better understand the people of the Bible, the Bible’s theological descriptions, and how the Bible portrays the ancient perceptions of God. As we explore the ancient roots of legal thinking about God, we’ll start by examining the foundations for legal views of atonement and salvation:

The legal perspective on salvation maintains that God loves sinners. God gave his Son Jesus to the world to be its penal substitutionary sacrifice, thus revealing how much he loves it. God thus is both just and merciful; and on the basis of Jesus’ death, sinners may be forgiven.

According to this view, God is angry with sin and sinners. Because sin is antagonistic to divine holiness, God’s wrath is his “just reaction” to sin.[7] It “is a continuous, settled antagonism aroused only by evil, and expressed in its condemnation.”[8] It is also his “positive revulsion” and “personal vigorous opposition” to evil.[9] Indeed, “there must be an eternal recoil against the unholy on the part of the all-holy God.”[10] In order to satisfy (or appease) it, God must condemn and punish sin. Yet God is meanwhile “sustained simultaneously with undiminished love for the offender.”[11]

The legal perspective sees satisfaction or appeasement as the way God has dealt with his anger. This means that either the sinner must be punished adequately in proportion to his/her guilt, or someone else must bear the penalty, exhausting it. “To sum up, God is ‘provoked’ to jealous anger over his people by their sins. Once kindled, his anger ‘burns’ and is not easily quenched. He ‘unleashes’ it, ‘pours’ it out, ‘spends’ it.”[12] Satisfaction must thus be made either by Christ to God or by God to himself.[13]

Legally speaking, God has been satisfied/satisfied himself through the sufferings and death of his Son. Jesus took on himself the punishment of sinners, and his death exhausted the penalty, enabling him to forgive sinners. Jesus bore our sins, with their guilt and condemnation, and paid the penalty at Calvary so that we might receive the gift of his righteousness in justification and salvation.

From a legal stance, sin is breaking the law, and the law demands death. God’s moral law is generally viewed as primarily a legal institution, instituted by the divine Lawgiver. Violations of this law are legal infractions and must be punished by God, for no law can be enforced without a penalty. The concepts of “legal” and “moral” are fused into a single notion.[14]

Viewed as a legal document, the law can only be enforced by death, as an externally imposed penalty by the divine Lawgiver. This is the cornerstone of legal systems. In philosophy of law, there are two kinds of law—descriptive law and prescriptive law.[15] Descriptive law in modern usage refers to laws that describe the way things work and are fixed; natural laws, such as the law of gravity, fit into this category. When descriptive laws are violated, the consequences are said to be “natural” or “inevitable”; that is, they are not externally imposed but rather stem from the action that is out of harmony with a particular law.

Prescriptive law, on the other hand, prescribes for its adherents what they are expected to do and is usually based on local and specific situations; thus, prescriptive laws can be changed. A key distinction is that when a prescriptive law is broken, punishment results, but administrators of the law must impose it externally on the wrongdoer. The legal perspective views God’s moral law as primarily prescriptive, so that instead of people suffering from the natural consequences of sin, God must punish those who break his law.

Western European Christianity in the later medieval period came to see some distinction between descriptive and prescriptive law, but in terms of consequences, most western European medievalists saw little difference between penalties for breaking divine laws and natural consequences. Both kinds of law were understood to be designed and operated by God, and thus violations of any law would require punishment—whether that punishment were built into the law or administered externally by the authorities. The present distinctions between natural laws of cause-and-effect and imposed punishment were not so clearly defined.

When it comes to the moral law, it is crucial for us to understand the difference between prescriptive and descriptive law. If God’s moral law is merely a prescriptive law, then the lawbreaker will learn to fear God for whatever penalty God might impose on him. On the other hand, if God’s law is descriptive, then the lawbreaker will fear breaking the law itself, which leads to inevitable results. Thus, two very different sets of consequences can result, depending on the nature of the law. A prescriptive law can be temporary, easily changed, and quite arbitrarily made. As descriptive law, the moral law reflects moral principles with intrinsic results. Love as a principle is a descriptive law because it is understood to be the only way the human family can live together in harmony, trust, and freedom. Seen as descriptive law, moral law cannot be changed but is intrinsic and eternal. If there were any other way to get the same result, such a law would have to be enforced by an arbitrarily imposed penalty, but this is not true of descriptive law. No one can force another to love them; thus, love is a descriptive law, not a prescriptive law. This is why the legal system (prescriptive law) cannot be enforced without externally imposed penalties, while the moral system cannot remain eternally fixed without natural consequences.

In terms of forensic atonement, God’s justice is purely legal and largely retributive. Legal justice demands that an appropriate punishment be meted out to the lawbreaker. Just what is deemed appropriate has varied from time period to time period and from culture to culture. Retributive justice means that one deserves to suffer not only for what one has done wrong, but also in proportion to it. Perhaps the most famous form of retribution is the law of retaliation (lex talionis)—or “life for life, eye for eye” justice stated three times in specific Old Testament laws and challenged by Jesus in the Gospels as an overarching principle.

Some propositions of forensic salvation claim that divine justice is distinct from divine love and mercy. If God’s justice and mercy are in conflict, there must be a “divine tension” in God’s mind between them. Even for Stott, for whom “God is not at odds with himself,” God has this duality within himself. Appealing to various Old Testament passages, he notes: “Here [in Hosea 11] surely is a conflict of emotions, a strife of attributes within God.”[16] Thus, there seems to be little room for a holistic view of God whose love encompasses his mercy, justice, and even his wrath. Stott quotes Emil Brunner: “God is not simply love. The Nature of God cannot be exhaustively stated in one single word.”[17]

Legal justification holds that Jesus took our place and died the death we deserved in exact equivalence, giving to us his righteousness. Penal substitution is the heart of forensic atonement. It means that Jesus in our place took on our punishment so that we might receive the merits of his righteousness. This transaction or exchange was one of exact equivalence, so that God can both be just and yet forgive and justify us.

The legal perspective views Jesus’ death as externally imposed. This is where theologians do not always state clearly exactly how this took place. Did the Father put his Son to death? Did he use the Jewish and Roman penal systems to execute Jesus? If one is consistent in terms of the legal metaphor, it seems necessary that Jesus would have suffered the exact same punishment that we deserve—which, depending on the belief system, would be either eternal torment in hell or annihilation at the hands of the Father or the Father’s designated authorities. Stott poses a particular problem for this, since he believes that God in Christ suffered the deserved justice. Does this mean that God executed himself? Did God hand himself over to the Roman and Jewish authorities and suffer their punishment? Before moving on, we should note that, for some Christians, this is resolved by a belief in Christ’s descent into hell between crucifixion Friday and resurrection Sunday.

Perhaps at this juncture, we should note three corollary beliefs that often are assumed when evangelicals discuss forensic atonement. These beliefs, held by a majority of evangelical Christians, include 1) the immortality of the soul, 2) eternal punishment in hell, and 3) the sovereignty of God. Though some evangelicals do not hold to the first of these two beliefs, it should be remembered that the development of the satisfaction theory in Christianity arises out of the Greek belief that divine justice demanded that sinners should forever pay the penalty for their sins.[18] Such a view becomes necessary when one believes that the soul is immortal and must be punished, because eternal torment is then inescapable. A belief in divine sovereignty shifted Jesus’ death from dealing with the devil (the original “ransom theory” held by the early fathers) to satisfying God himself.

Now that we have described some of the components of the legal model, let’s revisit the origins of the forensic view of atonement and salvation. We have already alluded to Tertullian’s Roman legal background and training and Anselm’s feudal context. But those who find their peace and security in this view are quick to point out that it is rooted in the Bible. Others, who find this view to be less than satisfactory, suggest that there are other ways to read Scripture that don’t necessitate interpreting it from this legal standpoint.[19] Who is right? Where did these views originate?

The truth is that the Bible itself is steeped in ancient human ways of thinking. Only if we read it carefully can we recognize that the social context of the Bible did not give an ideal reflection of the divine government in heaven. The Bible, written after the earliest civilizations, reveals a God who is ever speaking within the cultural context of the times. By using cultural paradigms and modes of thought to meet people wherever they were at the time, God tried to help people comprehend at least something of his nature. Thus God Incarnate, who is ever “with us,” guides the discerning student today to recognize those mediums of communication that reflect accustomed thinking and to see behind them larger, more encompassing revelations of God.

As we seek to understand this backdrop of ever-changing cultures, it is necessary for us to go back to the beginning of civilization and seek the roots of the legal notions that have long permeated our society. Did they come from God? Are they a part of his system of government? Were they invented by human beings?

The Origins of Ancient Law: Economics

Long before the time of Moses, the Mesopotamians invented legal conventions. As individuals wanted more and more material goods, and competition became the order of the day, human beings came to realize that some could not be trusted to be honest. Theft, unjust claims to property, abuse of property owners’ rights—all contributed to felt needs to protect one’s rights, property, and family. Naturally, beset by all kinds of injustices, individuals wronged turned to those who seemed to have more power than they (usually the elders) to solve their problems. While the Mesopotamians may have lacked the terms we use today to designate law, these elements comprised the earliest form of legal enterprise and serve as the basis of our modern court system.

However, controls were not always organized but early took the form of self-help. If a man murdered another man, someone in that murdered man’s clan would perform the duties of a “redeemer of blood” to avenge the death of his relative.[20] As economic and judiciary processes developed, the elders meeting at the gate began to hear cases of dispute or injustice and crimes such as murder or theft. The initial goal of this ancient court was to create agreement between two estranged parties;[21] but eventually, as individuals became “judges,” and writing developed, decisions (verdicts) came to be written for future use in similar cases. These judgments then served as a basis for deciding future cases.

Eventually, kings began to create decrees, known now as statutes.[22] The earliest of these were the economic reforms of Uru-inimgina, King of Lagash-Girsu (2351-2342 BCE). These decrees were but a short distance from the earliest laws uncovered, those of Ur-nammu (2112-2095 BCE), a Sumerian king of the Third Dynasty of Ur. These laws provide stipulations controlling issues from homicide (a capital crime), sexual offenses, and bodily injuries, to property issues. Aside from the few crimes requiring the death penalty, most of the penalties assigned were monetary. Lipit Ishtar (1934-1924 BCE) was the next king known to establish laws, most of which deal with property issues stipulating monetary penalties where needed, except in cases where someone died.

In the eighteenth century BCE, Hammurabi, the sixth king of the First Babylonian Dynasty, issued monumental laws on his famous stela, complete with a prologue and epilogue apparently written to establish Hammurabi’s position before the gods as a just king. An engraved picture atop the stela portrays this king standing before the sun god, Shamash, god of justice, receiving symbols of power from him. Though still holding onto monetary payment as the penalty for many of his laws, Hammurabi re-introduced the law of retaliation (lex talionis). If, for example, a house builder built faultily so that a beam of the house fell, killing the owner’s son, the son of the builder was to be killed. Hammurabi also legislated the death penalty for crimes such as false witness in a capital case, theft of property belonging to the temple or palace, and theft if the goods stolen could not be replaced.

From roughly the same period as Hammurabi, the Laws of Eshnunna also made stipulations regarding property issues, requiring monetary compensation where necessary. From the eleventh century, known as the Middle Assyrian period, laws have been found that primarily deal with women—either as perpetrators or as victims of injury. These laws invoke bodily punishment such as the cutting off of ears and nose, beating with a rod, cutting off the lower lip, and emasculation for many offenses. Payment might be required for certain cases and is sometimes listed with bodily penalties; and, of course, the death penalty was also required for more serious offenses.[23]

By comparing these laws with the concurrent court cases, many scholars have concluded that most of them (except possibly the Assyrian laws) emerged from the scribal schools and were part of the intellectual developments that took place in the ancient Near East.[24] Laws provided by the kings of Mesopotamia, then, were not monitored and enforced by the king himself. Achievements of justice belonged to the courts. But if a person was unable to obtain justice there, they had recourse to appeal to the king. If justice still was not given, the victim of injustice could appeal to the god of justice, usually the sun god.

As we have seen, two other key institutions were involved in formulating the ancient legal construct: economics and kingship. Economics brought to the conceptual arena various other facets, such as the notion that human beings could be owned and worked like oxen, substitution and exchange, and preferred class status by the ownership of property. The rise of kingship resulted in legislation from a single power and the notion that one person had the right to rule over many. These legal constructs emerging from society came to dominate all other areas, including religion. All of these dynamics became part of the fabric that made up the ancient Near Eastern worldview.

This worldview is one of the backdrops against which the Bible was written and events elaborated in it were interpreted. Thus, the Old Testament contains legal language and laws reflecting neighboring cultures. At the same time, in contrast to Mesopotamia, where the moral context is not as prominent, Israel’s use of law seemed decidedly cultic and moral. For Israel, all their laws came from one God, who left them in no doubt about what he wanted them to do.[25] The God of Israel gave his commands for their good, and biblical laws abound in motive clauses, often resembling a teaching modality.[26] God’s laws rest upon lofty principles, such as loving one’s neighbor as oneself, a principle that appears to be largely absent in other societies.[27] When the Bible, therefore, speaks from a legal framework, it is working within the legal constructs familiar to the Israelite audience but with the purpose of loftier moral perceptions.[28] With this in mind, we can now proceed to elaborate more fully the legal-religious world of the ancient Near East.

The Babylonian Model

To neatly encapsulate the Mesopotamian socioreligious worldview is difficult since the developments changed somewhat over time. However, certain features remained fairly constant during the Old Babylonian, Assyrian, and Neo-Babylonian periods, and these are what we will focus on.

The Babylonians and Assyrians characteristically took their constructed realm—with its economic, legal, and political systems—and superimposed it on the gods. One Creation myth, Atrahasīs, even begins with the words: “when gods man.” Scholars have alternated between translating this as “when gods were men” and “when the gods like men.”[29] Perhaps the line suggests the ancient roots of ancestor worship. Whatever the case, it is widely accepted that the Babylonians saw the gods as very much like human beings, or more specifically, as like the Babylonians themselves.[30] What we will particularly notice here are the features that play a role in the roots of a legal understanding of atonement and salvation.

Slavery

The prevailing belief of both the Sumerians and the Babylonians, borrowed from their own practice of slavery, was that human beings were created by the gods to be their substitute work force—that is, their slaves.[31] This belief was overarching and affected everything they did for the gods. As their slaves, they were required to provide food, clothing, housing (temples) for their necessities, and offer prayers, incantations, and incense to soothe them. So dependent were the gods upon their slaves that the Flood was deemed a disaster because it deprived the gods of their food supply from the offerings given daily by their human slaves. When the Flood ended, the gods hovered hungrily over the first sacrifice like flies.[32]

No doubt the Israelites tended to see their sacrifices as similar to that of their neighbors. Yet, in contrast to the Babylonian flood stories, the biblical story does not depict God as hungry but as smelling the pleasing odor. Yet it is not the odor that leads him to decide not to destroy humanity again; it is, rather, his recognition of the human problem.[33] In contrast to Mesopotamian views of feeding the gods, God himself supplied the food for the covenantal meal at Sinai.[34] In Psalm 50, God points out that he will not accept the sacrifices since every animal belongs to him, even “the cattle on a thousand hills.” “Do I eat the flesh of bulls,” he asks, “or drink the blood of goats?”[35] An important difference between Israel’s God and Mesopotamian gods is the emphasis on God as the Giver of everything human beings needed, whereas in Mesopotamia, it worked both ways: gods supplied humanity with fertility in exchange for human beings supplying the gods with offerings of food, housing, clothing, and prayers.

The Old Testament only rarely uses metaphors from the world of slavery to designate human beings. Israel was redeemed from slavery to be “a priestly kingdom and a holy nation” to God.[36] The first human beings created were made in God’s image and were given dominion over the earth; that image and thus the dominion was in turn reflected in serving the earth.[37] Perhaps nothing emphasizes this nonslave status more than the seventh-day Sabbath. Projected as a memorial of Israel’s release from Egyptian slavery in Deuteronomy, the Sabbath proclaimed rest with God for all people—slave and free. In a slavery tradition, slaves do not rest–they constantly serve their masters. But on Sabbath there were to be no slaves, especially not of God, since human beings were to emulate his rest by refraining from labor.[38] This is a prominent difference between the Babylonian view of human nature and that of the Bible.

Gods Like Kings

In many ways, Babylonian gods resembled the king.[39] Just as the king held royal court sessions, surrounded by his officials, so the gods held assembly among themselves. Just as kingship developed from the context of war, in which a hero who saved the country from the hand of the enemy eventually became the “big man,” so in the myths reflecting these developments, gods vie for kingship.[40] Thus, certain gods held supreme power over other gods and correspondingly over human beings.[41]

Generally speaking, Mesopotamian kings exhibited a great deal of pride and loved to proclaim their victories over enemies whom they conquered. The “big man” (the meaning of the Sumerian term for “king”) was truly the epitome of supremacy over his subjects.[42] Power and political control underlay the office and role of the king, though kings were expected to rule with justice, thus ensuring the stability of their kingdoms. Kings had three functions: 1) to govern their realm, 2) to represent the people to the gods, and 3) to interpret divine will (made known by signs). As head of the state, the king was in charge of the priests, designating who would be high priest.[43]

Nevertheless, various entities, such as the priests who read the omens regarding his fate, kept his power in check.[44] Every New Year in Babylonia, the high priest would remove the insignia of kingship from the king and would place them before Marduk. He then struck the king’s cheek and proceeded to drag the king into the temple by the ear, making him kneel before Marduk in servant-like humility. Next, the king had to confess to the god that he had not done anything wrong toward his subjects during the past year. The priest would then hand him back his insignia and smite him again on the cheek. If the king shed tears, the god would treat him well in the coming year, but if he did not release tears, Marduk was angry with him and would ensure his defeat.[45] Thus, while kingship was viewed as coming from heaven,[46] the king was still subservient to the gods.

While not all the deities of Babylonia held supreme power, those few who did, such as Enlil and Marduk, ruled over the gods and over human beings much like earthly kings. In the flood myth, Atrahasīs, Enlil oversees the attempts to destroy humanity by various means, culminating in a flood.[47] Like their human counterparts, the kings, deities with power, were understood to exercise it with complete freedom and sometimes, as in the case of Enlil, rather ruthlessly. Human “subjects” could not critique or complain about the gods’ decisions but were to submit to them without question. Any revolt or sin against a god would be swiftly punished.[48]

Perhaps this outline of kingship and power makes the Old Testament concept of a “jealous God” more understandable. God was in a sense having to compete with other deities, such as Baal and Asherah—a god and goddess similar to the gods of the Mesopotamians. The imagery of “jealousy” is sometimes placed in the context of God’s marriage to Israel,[49] a setting that would be perfectly understandable and acceptable to an ancient Near Eastern mind. The difference was that God’s marriage to Israel is unique; no Mesopotamian god ever formed a marriage union with the “black-headed peoples” (the Babylonians).[50]

Unlike Babylonian kings, for whom displays of pride and power were the norm, the Bible takes leadership down a different path. Israel’s first leader, Moses, is depicted as the most humble man in all the earth.[51] Such a statement is not a mark of arrogance, as we would see it today, but one of humility. When Israel later demanded a king, the prophetic voice warned them that they would end up being his slaves.[52] Unlike prophets of Assyria, who extolled their kings, promising them grandeur, Israel’s prophets took their kings to task for breaking the covenant with God. Prideful kings, such as Isaiah’s “king of Babylon” and Ezekiel’s “prince of Tyre,” are brought down to the depths of destruction and degradation.[53]

The Bible’s reluctance toward kingship suggests that Yahweh is not to be modeled after human kings. Similarly to how some of the Babylonian gods ruled over other gods, so God was supreme over Israel. Yet God is also portrayed by many different metaphors: creator, husband, father, mother, and king—each finding its place in a setting that was particularly helpful to its audience.

And Israel’s God was not like human kings, bent on flaunting his supremacy and power. To Abraham and Moses, he appeared more like a friend; to the prophets Amos and Micah, the Defender of the oppressed. Whether giving in to Abraham over Sodom, wrestling with Jacob, arguing with Moses about going to Egypt, or listening to Job rant, God permitted dialogue and even honest disagreement in a way unheard of by either Mesopotamian king or god. Yet for many in ancient times who read the text, God as King predominated. Indeed, a number of the Bible writers occasionally referred to God as “Lord,” using a term that can mean “master” (of a slave) as a term of respect or in contrast to other “lords.”[54] We can readily understand the need for portraying God in this manner, in order to elevate him above all false gods. To people steeped in constructs of hierarchy and dominion, God must appear as the Head of all.

Eventually, the name for God—Yahweh—came to be supplanted by the phrase, the Lord, in an attempt to prevent breaking the third commandment by pronouncing the divine name. Yahweh does not mean “lord;” the name Yahweh, a form of the verb “to be” in Hebrew, almost defies interpretation, but the best meanings seem to be “self-existent One” or “ever-present One.” During the Second Temple period, when the Jews who settled in Egypt translated the Hebrew Bible into Greek, they substituted the phrase the Lord (kyrios in Greek) for the name Yahweh. The substitution was carried over into the Latin Vulgate and finally into nearly all English versions of the Bible.

Understanding this background as we read the Old Testament can help us get behind the wording to a God whose supremacy is ultimately based upon his moral principles of truth and love. One way to look at God’s sovereignty in the Old Testament is to recognize that in actuality, he had less power than it would seem. The fact that the Israelites repeatedly abandoned him for other gods left him with little recourse but to display his power from time to time to obtain their attention and respect. Indeed, God is dependent to a great extent on the choices of his people.[55]

Divine Anger and Satisfaction

Perhaps the perception most foundational to worship in Assyria and Babylonia was that the human slaves served their divine masters through the cult.[56] The Babylonian awareness of the divine master-slave relationship and the potential anger that accompanied it affected every aspect of their worship. Everything that was done by the human slaves for the gods was done with a view to satisfying potentially angry divine masters. The food offerings, clothing, and even temple buildings were offered to please the gods and keep them placid and powerful. Omens and other divinatory rites were performed to attempt to determine the divine verdicts that would foretell whether the gods were planning favor or displeasure toward someone, especially toward the king, so that, if necessary, something might be done to prevent portended calamity. The burning of incense, with its soporific effects, and the chanting of incantations and prayers, were done for the purpose of soothing the gods.[57]

In the later periods, Mesopotamians came to see the more powerful deities as easily angered.[58] The origins of this view may well be human experience with kings whose anger made their subjects fear them. Perhaps speaking for the entire ancient Near East, several biblical proverbs recognize this: “The king’s wrath is a messenger of death, and whoever is wise will appease it.”[59] “The king’s anger is like the growling of a lion, but his favor is like dew on the grass.”[60] If the “big man” had power through anger to evoke such fear, how much more must human slaves fear the anger of the great gods! Appeasement and pacification of the gods are integral parts of Babylonian theology.[61]

As a result of this pervasive perception, it is no wonder that to the Babylonians, the act of worship was one of fear. “Fear,” in fact, was a word used for “worship.” Generally, Babylonians feared their gods—they did not develop loving or trusting relationships with them. What slave could?[62] At best, they could only hope to keep them out of harms’ way with gifts, much as they would with a royal official who could potentially cause them problems. At the same time, in their fear of the gods, the Babylonians did not picture them as wholly angry. Some hymns and prayers depict a god variously as “furious” and “merciful” in closely adjacent lines.[63]

Nowhere was the anger of gods more visible than in terms of suffering. Every illness, misfortune, or death came to be understood as the result of a divine legal verdict of “guilty” for some sin committed.[64] Unlike the Israelite community, whose prophets blamed divine anger on the people’s sins, the Babylonians did not know why the gods were angry.[65] They could only guess that they had neglected the rites, failed to bring adequate offerings, or in some other way upset a deity. Their duty was to try to propitiate this anger and hopefully get the god to bring them relief.

Perhaps this context sheds light on why God seems so angry in the Old Testament. Indeed, divine anger seems most prominent in the prophets who prophesied during the monarchical period. In the ancient Near Eastern religions of that time, it was popular to view deity as angry. In one way, the prophets were mediators, translating God’s ways into words their audience would recognize, respect, and take seriously. Perhaps it is no coincidence that the prophet Ezekiel, who made God’s anger most prominent and intense, prophesied from Babylonia.[66] In some stories, where it appears that God’s anger is present or seems to be appeased, we are clearly dealing with the human elements of language and perception of language.[67]

Nevertheless, differences exist, and God’s anger varies from place to place in the Bible. In a number of significant stories where God punishes people with death, divine anger is not even mentioned. For example, divine anger is not linked to the Flood, Sodom and Gomorrah, or the deaths of Nadab and Abihu. In the case of the Flood, the text states that God was grieved to his heart.[68] When God gets angry with Moses for arguing against going to Egypt, he doesn’t punish Moses but rather, lets him have his way.[69] In the book of Judges, God’s anger is linked to his selling people into foreign hands.[70] Obviously, the “selling” is a metaphor (since God receives no payment) for his letting his people go. In the prophets, God is angry with Israel for forsaking him for false gods. Through Jeremiah, he counsels them to turn away from other gods and treat one another justly. By rejecting Jeremiah’s messages about false gods, they are prepared to reject his wise counsel to submit to Nebuchadnezzar. When they refuse to submit to Nebuchadnezzar, their downfall and destruction are all the more certain. God’s anger thus equals the inevitable consequences of their refusal to serve Nebuchadnezzar in the destruction of Jerusalem.[71] In many instances where God’s anger is mentioned, it seems that the writer uses it to designate a specific disaster.[72]

Perhaps the most significant difference between Old Testament divine anger and Babylonian divine anger has to do with appeasement. Unlike the Babylonian prayers that plead directly for the god’s wrath to be assuaged, the Hebrew Psalter nowhere makes such a request.[73] Generally, appeasement is missing from the prayers and hymns in the Bible.

When we turn to the Old Testament sacrificial system, we must bring a certain bias to the rituals to arrive at appeasement, since the phrase used to govern the purpose of the offering—often translated “make atonement” in the modern versions—really has the sense of removal or cleansing.[74] True, this verb does mean “to appease,” when used with an object such as a person or a person’s face;[75] however, in the rituals of Leviticus, the verb is never used with an object and certainly never with God as the One “atoned.” The only object is prepositional: “for sin.” Sin is removed or cleansed; God is not appeased. What happened, though, to give us the perception of appeasement is that the translators of the Greek Old Testament (the Septuagint) assumed that God was the object of the atonement and used a Greek term meaning “to propitiate.”[76] This, then, became a term used occasionally in the New Testament, though Paul balances it out with a different term meaning reconciliation—a term he applies only to human beings, not to God.[77]

The most striking difference between Israelite and Babylonian thinking lies in the notion of rest. Both Hebrew and Akkadian (the Babylonian language) contain a variety of terms for rest. In the Bible, the most outstanding notion of rest is linked to the Sabbath. Sabbath rest is cessation from and refreshment from labor. Not only human beings, but also their slaves and animals are to rest on God’s Sabbath.[78] In the seven-year cycle leading to the Jubilee, even the land is to enjoy its sabbaths.[79] By contrast, in Babylonian conception, only gods could rest, having created human beings to be their slaves (and slaves never rest). But divine rest is far more than rest or cessation from work; it is specifically rest from anger, or pacification and appeasement. Sometimes, it is even the rest that comes from imposed penalty upon a guilty god.[80] The concept of rest as appeasement is absent from the Hebrew Bible.

For the prophets, it is not sacrifices that God wants as much as a relationship of obedience, doing good to others, seeking justice, and the knowledge of God.[81] From my study of the Old Testament, I have concluded that the only way to achieve the notion of appeasement of divine anger is to assume that the Israelites believed like the Babylonians. No doubt many of them did; certainly, the translators of the Septuagint did. Yet, clearly, it is not necessary to assume that the biblical writers originally had this concept in mind.

Divine Justice and Retribution

Punishment in the ancient Near East (including the Bible) is rarely tied to the term for justice. Anciently, justice predominantly means delivering the oppressed and those cheated, making things more equitable for the poor, and looking after widows and orphans. The Bible also follows this thinking, and Hebrew justice is predominantly delivering people (especially the marginalized) from oppression or injustice. On the other hand, justice is not so far from punishment. In the process of delivering the oppressed, one must deal with oppressors, get them to stop oppressing, and make restitution (justice) to those they have wronged. Just because the flip side of the coin is not verbally represented does not mean it was not present. In the same breath that Hammurabi states his goal as king: “to make justice prevail in the land,” he adds: “to abolish the wicked and the evil, to prevent the strong from oppressing the weak, to rise like the sun-god Shamash [the god of justice] over all humankind, to illuminate the land.”[82] The Old Testament makes this connection between punishment and justice even clearer.[83]

Thus punishment and justice went hand-in-hand, and indeed, punishment was particularly a legal affair.[84] Nowhere is this more evident than in the fact that the Mesopotamians tied punishment quite intimately together with divination. The process—whether read from the internal organs of a sheep or discerned from the heavens or analyzed in a dream—was completed in an effort to discern the verdicts of the gods as they determined their judgments for human beings. If the verdict portended evil for an individual, then the decision was that of divine punishment. All misfortune, as was stated above, was the result of the divine will—not “will” in the sense of “plan” but of “legal judgment.” The judicial decision of the gods was that the punishment to be meted out was deserved because of some sin the suffering individual had committed. Ultimately, suffering itself came to be viewed as the manifestation of a divine verdict.[85]

So punishment came to be seen as directly imposed by the gods on individuals or cities in the forms of sickness, premature death, misfortune, war, and famine. From a more general perception, the Babylonians believed that while the gods had immortality, they had fated human beings to die. Several heroes, such as Gilgamesh and Etana, attempted to find the keys to immortality but always failed. Human beings can never live forever.

In the Old Testament, sickness, death, and misfortune are also viewed as coming from God. Yet, as noted above, the metaphors for this come from a variety of arenas. The primary legal metaphor is that of covenant, in which God is viewed as Israel’s Suzerain and Israel as his vassal. This is highlighted in Exodus and in the curses of Deuteronomy, but in the prophets, a favorite metaphor for divine punishment comes from marriage. God is viewed as the husband (sometimes in nonlegal terms) of his people.[86] Nevertheless, like the Babylonians, God is often viewed as the One responsible for every difficulty his people face—and thus sickness, famine, pestilence, war, and destruction are viewed as divine punishment. Even the Chronicler, after telling how King Saul committed suicide, states that the Lord slew him.[87] The greater difference between Old Testament views of divine punishment and those of Babylonia, as has been mentioned, lies in the consistency of the Old Testament to point to specific sins as the reason for the punishment.

One book of the Bible, however, challenges the prevailing ancient Near Eastern view of divine justice. In the book of Job, this suffering prototype, who is ignorant of the conversation between God and Satan in heaven, rejects that traditional retributive view of divine justice and declares that he is not being punished for his sins. His three friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, declare that everyone knows differently—that Job’s sufferings are divine punishment and that Job must repent. In true ancient Near Eastern fashion, Elihu declares Job’s impiety for what he has said in his speeches and attempts to defend God against them.[88] In the divine speeches, God takes Job on a tour of the universe, using ancient mythological elements of good and evil, and invites him to try taking on the role of God. Would he be able to solve the problem of evil by sheer power and punishment? The answer is negative, for there remains the ultimate personification of evil, the Leviathan, who is king over all the proud.[89] At the end of God’s speeches, Job “repents.” However, the word used is not the ordinary term for repentance but is one that can mean “to recant” or even “to object.” That Job repents is not necessarily true, but rather, he may simply lay down his case against God.[90]

The divine justice advocated by the book of Job is of a different quality altogether than the prevailing retributive justice of the three friends and, indeed, the ancient Near East. Set within God’s central role as Creator of the world, divine justice treats the wicked and the righteous alike (something Job himself contends), providing for all God’s creation the sustenance they need. Because both the wicked and the righteous (symbolized by darkness and light, predator and prey) exist in God’s creation, the righteous suffer at the hands of the wicked.[91] By rejecting retributive justice and by adopting the justice of creation, the book of Job opens up to the reader new ways of thinking that foreshadow Jesus’ teaching in his restatement of divine law in Matthew 5.

Substitution

The concept of substitution is a prominent feature of the Assyrians and the Babylonians. Perhaps no idea so tied economics, law, kingship, and religion together, as this one did. Substitution seems to be present foundationally in economics. As human beings developed the barter system and found ways to exchange goods, they found that sometimes, they could “buy” something in exchange for an equivalent monetary value. The Babylonian term for this meant “price equivalent” and is related to the term for “price” used in Isaiah 55:1. Though it does not strictly mean “substitute,” the use of exchange of goods or money for other goods was certainly a basic form of substitution.

Another term, the legal term for “substitute,” was used in cases of sickness in a ritual of transfer. The substitute ritual went something like this: A small animal or carved figurine was used as the substitute, and a bond was created or visualized between this object and the patient. This bond was made either by physical contact, bringing the object to touch the sick person, or by its similarities to that person. By this means, the illness was believed to be transferred to the “substitute,” which was subsequently taken out and disposed of. The “substitute” then was to “die” instead of the patient. Since the term for substitute used here is a legal term, it further underlines the fact that the Babylonians saw sickness as the result of a legal verdict by the gods. Healing, then, was carried out by giving the gods legally what they wanted—in terms of a legal equivalent.[92]

A third term for substitution is used in a major ritual that was carried out only in times of portended evil to the king. This is the “substitute king” (šar puhi) ritual, well attested to among the Assyrians but also practiced by the Babylonians.[93] If danger, foretold by the omens, threatened the king’s life, he left his throne and was replaced by an ordinary citizen, a simpleton, or a criminal. The “substitute king” would reign for a specific period of time, bearing the royal insignia. During this time, he would take on himself the omens sent by the gods and read through divination. At the end of the period, he and his wife would be taken out and executed. The real king (who in some cases still acted behind the scenes) would then be reinstated on the throne.[94]

The ritual is not just political but legal in nature. Since the Babylonians perceived the omens as “verdicts” from the gods, the substitute king, by taking these verdicts on himself, could be put to death accordingly. Further, the fact that they believed the gods would accept the substitute king suggests the understanding that legally they had complied with what the gods demanded. The gods had decided in judgment that “the king” was to be put to death—and “he” was. Only in a legal framework does this make any sense.

Yet another context for substitution was that of the netherworld. In the Descent of Ishtar, Ishtar makes her way to the netherworld and disappears because the Queen of the netherworld, Ereshkigal, has caused her to die and has hung her up like a piece of meat. When the world of the gods above discovers what has happened, Ea (the crafty god) creates a special god to go down to the netherworld to bring Ishtar back up. But for Ishtar not to have to return to the netherworld, a substitute must replace her. When Ishtar finds Tammuz, her lover, no longer mourning for her, she makes him go to the netherworld in her place. In this and in other stories about the netherworld, no one can escape without providing a substitute.[95]

So prominent was the concept of substitution in Assyrian and Babylonian thinking that Akkadian contains at least three separate terms for “substitute” (we have discussed two of them here). By surprising contrast, the Hebrew Bible only rarely uses terms for substitution, preferring to convey the concept by the use of two constructions. The first is that of “bearing” sin through transfer; the second is the use of the preposition instead of.[96] These two kinds of substitution are featured in two different passages that we will now consider in the Hebrew Bible.

The Suffering Servant. J. Walton has attempted to offer an explanation of the Fourth Servant Song (Isaiah 52:12 - 53:12) in light of the Mesopotamian substitute king ritual.[97] He lists several apparent similarities—the exaltation of the Servant, his substitution, the lowliness of the Servant, the Servant’s bearing of the people’s punishment (something the substitute king does for the real king), the Servant’s burial with the wealthy (the substitute king is buried with ceremony), the divine will to crush the Servant,[98] the guilt offering appeasing deity (the notion of appeasement is not expressed in this passage in Isaiah), and finally, the Servant seeing his seed and prolonging his days.[99]

A careful study of these parallels reveals that many of them feature significant differences. For example, the Servant is exalted after and possibly because of his willingness to suffer, whereas the substitute king is exalted before his death and in order to die. Because in later šar puhi texts, a simpleton is chosen to be the substitute king, Walton compares this to the humble state of the Suffering Servant, who was “despised” and “held…of no account.”[100] Yet this comparison is inexact—the Servant is marred apparently through his sufferings—since it does not fit all cases of the substitute king ritual. Furthermore, the bearing of punishment and the divine will to crush the Servant point to a significant difference: the Servant bears the sins of the people, whereas the substitute king bears the omens of the real king; and the divine will is manifest regarding the Servant and the real king, two figures not in parallel. Thus, the similarities are not as striking as they might seem at superficial glance. This leaves the two most significant areas to consider—substitution and punishment.

Much is made of the words, “Yahweh was pleased to crush him with sickness.”[101] These words imply that God was the One responsible for imposing on the Servant his suffering. This interpretation contradicts v. 8: “By a perversion of justice he was taken away.”[102] If God enacted a perversion of justice, this poses a theological problem. The sentence—“Yahweh was pleased to crush him”—includes an infinitive, which allows the sentence to be rendered, “His crushing was Yahweh’s will.” In other words, the wording may not at all indicate that Yahweh did the crushing of the Servant.[103]

That he did not is supported by a closer reading of vv. 4 and 5, usually translated as follows:

Surely he has borne our infirmities

and carried our diseases;

yet we accounted him stricken,

struck down by God, and afflicted.

But he was wounded for our transgressions,

crushed for our iniquities;

upon him was the punishment that made us whole,

and by his bruises we are healed.[104]

The problem lies with the word translated “for.” In the English of the King James Version and in certain contexts still today, this word meant “because of.” But it has lost that meaning when used this way. The actual Hebrew word means literally “from” (“he was wounded from our transgressions”). The Greek translators of the Septuagint rendered this “because of”—certainly one way of interpreting the preposition. A clearer translation, one that fits the Hebrew more closely, would be “by.” This is exactly how the same preposition is translated in the clause: “By a perversion of justice he was taken away.” No reason exists, other than appealing to tradition, to suppose that the same preposition in v. 5 should be translated differently. The result of translating v. 5 consistently with v. 8 is as follows:

Certainly he took on our sicknesses

and bore our diseases,

yet we ourselves considered him stricken,

struck down by God and afflicted.[105]

But he was wounded by our transgressions,

bruised by our iniquities.

The chastisement of our peace was upon him

and with his stripes we are healed.[106]

Such a coherent reading makes it less tenable to see this as divine punishment; rather, the Servant bears the sins and sicknesses of the people, and it is their sinfulness, combined with their perversity, that causes his sufferings and death. If we see this as divine punishment, we simply assent to the position of v. 4b and undercut the major thrust of this Fourth Servant Song.

An interpretation of this passage, in which sin causes the death of the Servant, changes the way both substitution and punishment are perceived. The exchange that is made is the transfer of sin to the Servant and the healing resulting from his sufferings. But if one removes the divine cause, placing it instead on sin, substitution becomes a practical transition instead of a legal transaction.

It would seem, then, that whatever the writer of the Fourth Servant Song had in mind, he did not follow the substitute king ritual point by point to conform the Servant to it. The number of differences suggests that if he had it in mind at all, it was to show the differences between the Servant and the substitute king, rather than their similarities. The most essential difference between them, as Walton has pointed out, is the fact that the Servant bears the sins of the people, whereas the substitute king bears the omens (verdicts) for the real king. In a legal construct, however, there is no vital difference between verdicts and punishment. One leads to the other. Conversely, if we attribute the death of the Servant to sin, we are dealing not with a legal verdict but with a description of the inevitable reality of sin’s consequences. The Bible, of course, is against omen reading, and the text of the Fourth Servant Song says nothing about a divine judgment. In fact, since the Servant makes himself a guilt offering, this point is even clearer. In both the sin and guilt offerings, the sinner generally was responsible for killing the animal,[107] illustrating the immediate causal connection between sin and death. (If this followed a Babylonian scenario, there would be a certain class of priests ordained to perform this act as executioner, but no such role existed in Israel.[108]) Yahweh’s only stated action in terms of the Servant is to lay on him “the iniquity of us all.” Certainly, this could be translated “punishment”; but since the majority of times this word is used it means “iniquity,” most translators render it this way.[109] Given these factors, the Fourth Servant Song does not require a legal interpretation but may just as well allow for a reading that removes God from being the One who causes the suffering and death of the Servant. In this interpretation, the Servant is not a victim of human sacrifice, as in the case of the Mesopotamian substitute king, but dies as a result of human sinfulness.

The Binding of Isaac. Substitution finds its place in one of the few instances where the preposition instead of is used to denote a substitutionary act in the form of sacrifice. The setting is the strange command of God to Abraham to offer his son Isaac as a child sacrifice. While such an act seems hideous to us today, in Abraham’s time it was a fairly common practice, and thus the patriarch would be unlikely to question it on moral grounds.

The story is significant because it illustrates something about substitution and penalty that are not explained elsewhere in the Bible. Laid out in two parts, with two different interpretations, the story suggests a redefining of the sacrificial elements that make up atonement. At the outset, the reader sees a father and his only beloved son trudging toward a mountain, carrying a knife, wood, and fire. The scene implies a pagan child sacrifice; it also bears haunting similarities to traditional views of Jesus’ death. At the top of the mountain, everything proceeds as planned. The father binds his son, lays him on the wood, and raises the knife. Just then, God’s angel calls to Abraham by name and states the key words of the story that pull the two halves together: “Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.”[110] The message is fully clear: A father was not to cause his son’s death by sacrifice. This is a bold rejection of child sacrifice; it is equally a clear rejection of a view of atonement in which God the Father would kill his own Son. The first half of the story suggests a father willing to give up his son; the last part of the story suggests a substitute slain by a sinner.

When part two of the story begins, the roles of the participants have changed—thanks to the substitute caught in the thicket. Abraham is not the father of the ram; he is a humble sinner and suppliant, slaying the animal. Substitution in this story acts as a revelation of what atonement means. As a revelation with meaning, such substitution still involves transfer and consequences for sin, but it loses its legal and penal aspect, though not its moral thrust.

Conclusion

In the process of examining the origins and ancient developments of legal, economic, and political constructs, we have found some major parallels between the forensic model of the atonement, as it has been traditionally embraced, and the religious and legal perceptions and institutions in ancient Mesopotamia. Clearly, these legal concepts have been present within the religious perceptions of the human mind from very ancient times. The question remains: Does the Old Testament really teach this view?

Certainly, we can find support for forensic atonement, depending on how we interpret the cultic rituals, the many references to divine anger, and various stories where an individual offers a sacrifice apparently to avert divine anger. By assuming Babylonian religious concepts as we read the Old Testament, we can make a case for it to endorse in every respect a thoroughly legal interpretation of atonement. No doubt many within Israel viewed their union with God in much the same way as the Babylonians did.

By looking at the evidence afresh, I have attempted to show some important contrasts between how the Babylonians viewed their gods and how the Old Testament views Israel’s God. My conclusion is this: The Old Testament is not just another Babylonian interpretation of all things religious. The Babylonian views are merely the background against which the Old Testament was written; they are not its sum and substance. Rather, the Old Testament offers windows with glimpses, well beyond its ancient Near Eastern context, of a God who ultimately transcends the human paradigms anciently used to understand him. By using familiar constructs in new and fresh ways, it breaks the Babylonian mold, so to speak, and sets the reader free to reinterpret God, atonement, and salvation in ways that fit the entire Bible as a whole.

In my interpretation of the Old Testament, the issue at stake in atonement is not divine anger against sin that must legally be dealt with but the moral problem of sin as a very real destroyer of those who choose it. To the God whose morality is love, sin must be dealt with in such a way as to remove it effectively forever and thus rescue sinners from its deadly grasp. This could only be done by demonstrating that sin itself leads to death. The one who bears sin thus suffers its results. Only the sinner who recognizes this and owns his or her own sinful actions, turning away from them, will live (Ezekiel 18:19-24). Substitution means the revelation of this fact—a fact that points to the good news that salvation in no way resolves divine anger but saves sinners from the sin that would destroy them. In this interpretation, then, there is no opposition between divine mercy and justice; rather, God is faced with the challenges of human rebellion and wrestles with us, not with himself, to save us.

Such a portrayal of God frees us from a legal relationship to one founded on moral principles of love and truth, and frees us also to embrace one created by the Father, who reconciles us to himself through his Son. It also liberates us from viewing God as once-angry-turned-gracious, to trusting the God who is consistently battling the sin that destroys his beloved children. We now see a God longing to save us from it, willing to go to great lengths to meet us where we are, taking enormous risks to free us from sin’s grasp, and ever longing to embrace us in his love. To read the Old Testament through this lens is to enable us to understand and appreciate more fully the heart of God behind the many difficult stories and to hear his agonizing call as he faces the reality of human choices to abandon him: “How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel?” (Hosea 11:8, NRSV). It is to perceive the ideal of God’s heart-longings, mingled with the reality of shadowy human perceptions revealed in the Old Testament God-with-us.

[1].  This is the most traditional view.

[2].  John R. W. Stott, The Cross of Christ (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1986), 124.

[3].  Donald G. Bloesch, Essentials of Evangelical Theology, 2 vols. (San Francisco, CA: Harper and Row; New York, NY: HarperCollins, 1978-1979), 160.

[4].  As Bloesch (Essentials, 1:160) puts it: “God’s attitude toward man does change in the light of the sacrifice of Christ, but this change was already apparent in his own eternal decision to identify himself with the sins of man and to bear the penalty of these sins” (italics his).

[5].  Timothy Gorringe, God’s Just Vengeance: Crime, Violence and the Rhetoric of Salvation (Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 155.

[6].  I am indebted to Stott (Cross of Christ, 117-120) for the general delineation of this trajectory.

[7].  Stott, Cross of Christ, 102.

[8].  Ibid., 106.

[9].  Leon Morris. The Cross in the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1965), 191; cited by Stott, Cross of Christ, 105.

[10].   Leon Morris. The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1965), 149.

[11].  Stott, Cross of Christ, 106.

[12].  Ibid., 126.

[13].  The latter is Stott’s preference (Cross of Christ, 124).

[14].  In ethical discussions, what is moral and what is legal are not necessarily the same. For example, legally, it is right in some areas to practice active euthanasia (“mercy killing”); but to many, this is not a moral right. Legally, we may ignore our parents after leaving home and never speak to them again. But if we love our parents, we will likely—except under extreme circumstances—find it morally right to show honor and devotion to them. Many moral behaviors are not legislated by law and, indeed, cannot be.

[15].  In legal circles, prescriptive law is referred to as positive law. For a discussion of these two kinds of law, see Jeffrie G. Murphy and Jules L. Coleman, Philosophy of Law: an Introduction to Jurisprudence, rev. ed. DPS (Boulder, CO; San Francisco, CA; and London, England: Westview Press, 1990), 6, 7.

[16].  Stott, Cross of Christ, 129-131.

[17].  Emil Brunner. The Mediator: a Study of the Central Doctrine of the Christian Faith, trans. Olive Wyon (New York, NY: The Macmillan Company, 1934), 281, 282, cited in Stott, Cross of Christ, 130.

[18].  Alan E. Bernstein (The Formation of Hell: Death and Retribution in the Ancient and Early Christian Worlds [Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1993], 61) notes: “Plato makes the same argument [as Glaucon] in the Phaedo (107c-d). A soul that dies cannot pay for the evil it has wrought, and so the mortality of the soul…would be a boon to the wicked, who would escape with lighter punishments than they deserve. Justice, therefore, demands the immortality of the soul; and the immortality of the soul makes eternal punishment possible.” Later, Augustine defends the justice of an everlasting hell (Bernstein, Formation of Hell, 272).

[19].  Timothy Gorringe (God’s Just Vengeance, 81, 82; cf. 268-271) moves in this direction.

[20].  For information regarding how the clan functioned legally, see Ze’ev W. Falk, Hebrew Law in Biblical Times, 2nd ed. (Provo, UT.: Brigham Young University Press and Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2001), 23-26.

[21].  For a review of this hypothesis, see Hans Jochen Boecker, Law and the Administration of Justice in the Old Testament and Ancient East, trans. Jeremy Moiser (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Publishing House, 1980), 21-24. Vestiges of this attempt to gain agreement is seen in some of the ancient Near Eastern court cases available; see, e.g., CTN 3 31; Assur 2 107; VAS 1 97 in Remko Jas, Neo-Assyrian Judicial Procedures (SAAS 5; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 1996), 20, 21, 25-28, 37-39.

[22].  Raymond Westbrook, “Introduction: The Character of Ancient Near Eastern Law,” in A History of Ancient Near Eastern Law, ed. Raymond Westbrook; 2 vols. (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 6.

[23].  For an up-to-date translation and overview of these laws, see Martha T. Roth, Law Collections From Mesopotamia and Asia Minor, SBLWAW 6; with Harry A. Hoffner, Jr., Piotr Michalowski, ed. (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1995).

[24].  Roth, Law Collections, 4.

[25].  See Deuteronomy 4:5-8; Psalm 147:19, 20.

[26].  The Hebrew word for law (torah) basically means “teaching.”

[27].  Leviticus 19:11-18.

[28].  Philosophically and ethically, moral is not the same as legal. One can be legally correct but morally lacking in integrity. For a discussion on this, see Murphy and Coleman, Philosophy of Law, 6-11.

[29].  For a discussion on this, see Benjamin R. Foster, Before the Muses: An Anthology of Akkadian Literature, 2 vols. (Bethesda, MD: CDL Press, 1993), 159. See also W. G. Lambert and A. R. Millard, Atra-Hasīs: The Babylonian Story of the Flood, with M. Civil (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1999), 43.

[30].  See Jean Bottéro, Religion in Ancient Mesopotamia, trans Teresa Lavender Fagan (Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press, 2001), 64-69, 103, 114, 115, 219-223.

[31].  The explanation of human creation in two myths—Atrahasīs and Enuma Elish—is that the gods created human beings to take the place of the gods in doing the work. See also H. W. F. Saggs, The Encounter with the Divine in Mesopotamia and Israel (London, England: The Athlone Press; University of London, 1978), 164-169.

[32].  See both flood stories of Atrahasīs (III iii 30, 31; iv 16, 21, 22; v 34-37) and the Epic of Gilgamesh (XI:155-166); cf. Saggs, The Encounter with the Divine, 169-171.

[33].  Genesis 8:21.

[34].  See Exodus 24:9-11.

[35].  Psalm 50:8-13, NRSV.

[36].  Exodus 19:6, NRSV.

[37].  See Genesis 1:26-28; 2:15.

[38].  Exodus 20:8-11; 31:17; cf. Genesis 2:1-3.

[39].  Bottéro, Religion, 219, 220.

[40].  After he conquers the Anzû bird, Ninurta (god of kingship) tries to keep the keys of power—known as the “tablets of destiny”—and someone is sent to wrest them from his grasp in order to restore them to Enlil, their rightful possessor. In the Babylonian Creation, entitled Enuma Elish, Babylon’s patron god is invited to take on Tiamat—the dragon-like monster who is threatening the gods’ lives. Before agreeing to do so, Marduk sets up a bargain: They must make him supreme over all the gods. This they proceed to do, once Marduk has proven his prowess by passing a test of dismantling and reassembling a constellation.

[41].  In the earlier periods, Enlil held the reigns of divine supremacy that extended to human kingship; eventually, Ninurta, firstborn of Enlil, becomes the “Eternal King.” Amar Annus, The God Ninurta in the Mythology and Royal Ideology of Ancient Mesopotamia (Helsinki, Finland: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 2002), 13-17. Beginning with the First Dynasty of Babylon, Marduk takes on Enlil’s role of conferring kingship. J. N. Postgate, “Royal Ideology and State Administration in Sumer and Akkad,” in CANE, 4 vols. (New York, NY: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1995), 403.

[42].  Henri Frankfort, Kingship and the Gods: A Study of Ancient Near Eastern Religion as the Integration of Society and Nature (Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press, 1948, 1978), 218.

[43].  Frankfort, Kingship, 252.

[44].  Examples of this are found in Frankfort, Kingship, 254-261.

[45].  For an examination of this feature of the Akītu Festival, see Mark E. Cohen, The Cultic Calendars of the Ancient Near East (Bethesda, MD: CDL Press, 1993), 438, 446, 447.

[46].  Frankfort, Kingship, 237.

[47].  Except that Enki outsmarts him by saving a few human beings to repopulate the earth and ultimately provides a solution for keeping the human population under check.

[48].  Bottéro, Religion, 220, 221.

[49].  E.g., Hosea 1-3; Ezekiel 16, 23 (cf. Exodus 20:2-6).

[50].  The closest Mesopotamia comes to such a metaphor is in the Sumerian “sacred marriage” institution, in which the king cohabited with a goddess in the person of a virgin. But this involved only the king, not the people.

[51].  See Numbers 12:3.

[52].  1 Samuel 8:17.

[53].  Isaiah 14:4-21; Ezekiel 28:11-19.

[54].  See e.g., Psalm 136:3; Isaiah 6:1, 8, 11; 7:14; 28:2; 50:14; 61:1; Jeremiah 1:6; 4:10; Ezekiel 5:5, 8; 6:3; 7:2; 8:1; 18:30; 25:3; 32:11; Amos 3:7, 8; 4:2; 7:1.

[55].  A number of stories discuss how he reluctantly gave in to their complaints or demands. See, e.g., Exodus 16:1-13 and 1 Samuel 8:4-22.

[56].  F. A. M. Wiggermann, “Theologies, Priests, and Worship in Ancient Mesopotamia,” in CANE 3:1857; A. Leo Oppenheim, Ancient Mesopotamia: Portrait of a Dead Civilization, rev. ed. completed by Erica Reiner (Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press, 1977), 198.

[57].  See Bottéro, Religion, 125, 126.

[58].  Perhaps the most extravagant example is the “Poem of Erra,” in which this god of the netherworld overwhelms the Babylonians with catastrophes of every kind, in an effort to elicit their fear of him.

[59].  Proverbs 16:14, NRSV.

[60].  Proverbs 19:12, NRSV.

[61].  This kind of divine “rest” (ultimately appeasement) is a motif of the Babylonian Creation (Enuma Elish).

[62].  Bottéro, Religion, 36-41.

[63].  See, for example, the opening lines of Ludlul bēl nēmeqi (“I Will Praise the Lord of Wisdom,” often called “The Poem of the Righteous Sufferer”) and “A Literary Prayer to Marduk.” For a translation of these works, see Foster, Before the Muses, 1:310, 311; 2:520.

[64].  For an overview of how this worked, see F. Rachel Magdalene, On the Scales of Righteousness; Neo-Babylonian Trial Law and the Book of Job, BJS 348 (Providence, RI: Brown Judaic Studies, 2007), 13-25.

[65].  This is vividly expressed in the Babylonian Ludlul bēl nēmeqi (see note 62 above); cf. Bottéro, Religion, 189-191.

[66].  See Ezekiel 5:13; 16:42; 21:17; 24:13.

[67].  See, e.g., Genesis 8:21; 2 Samuel 21:1-14; 24:1-25.

[68].  Genesis 6:6.

[69].  Exodus 4:13-17. Compare Hosea 13:11 with 1 Samuel 8:1-22.

[70].  Judges 2:11-15; 3:7, 8, 12; 4:2; 6:1.

[71].  Jeremiah 21:1-10; 27:12-22.

[72].  This statement is the result of a thorough analysis of all the terms for anger in the Hebrew Bible. See, e.g., 1 Kings 21:22; Psalm 88:7, 17, 18; 90:7; Job 6:4; Psalm 78:49 (cf. Exodus 6-12, where the stories of the Egyptian plagues are told without reference to divine anger).

[73].  The closest passages to it are the very few psalms or prayers that plead for God turn his anger away or put it away, terms synonymous with changing the circumstances for the person praying. See, e.g., Psalm 85:4; Daniel 9:16.

[74].  See, e.g., Leviticus 4:20. The term kipper is related to the Akkadian kuppuru, meaning, “to wipe off, to clean objects, to rub.”

[75].  See, e.g., Genesis 32:20; Proverbs 16:14.

[76].  hilaskesthai, hileōs.

[77].  katellagē; see 2 Corinthians 5:18-20.

[78].  Exodus 20:8-11; 23:12; Deuteronomy 5:12.

[79].  Leviticus 25:2-8.

[80].  For rest as appeasement, see Tablets I, II, VI of the Babylonian Creation (Enuma Elish).

[81].  See 1 Samuel 15:22, 23; Isaiah 1:11-17; Jeremiah 7:21-23 (note that the word just added by the NIV translators is not necessary to the Hebrew text); Hosea 6:6; Amos 5:21-24; Micah 6:6-8.

[82].  Prologue to the Laws of Hammurabi, translated by Martha T. Roth, Law Collections From Mesopotamia and Asia Minor, SBL WAWS 6; Piotr Michalowski, ed. (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1995), 76.

[83].  See, e.g., Deuteronomy 21:22; Jeremiah 30:11. Part of the reason for this apparently close connection lies in the fact that the word justice has many nuances and in certain contexts is tied to punishment.

[84].  Cf. Magdalene, On the Scales, 15.

[85].  See Jean Bottéro, Mesopotamia: Writing, Reasoning, and the Gods, trans Zainab Bahrani and Marc Van De Mieroop (Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press, 1992), 122-124; Magdalene, On the Scales, 13-25.

[86].  See Hosea 2:16, 17, where the legal term baali (my husband) is rejected by God for ’ishi (my husband as an equal partner). See also Jeremiah 3:20.

[87].  See 1 Chronicles 10:1-7, 14.

[88].  For a fuller review of Elihu as the second accuser-prosecutor, see Magdalene, On the Scales, 225-246.

[89].  Job 41:34.

[90].  L. J. Sheldon, “The Book of Job as Hebrew Theodicy: An Ancient Near Eastern Intertextual Dispute Between Cosmology and Law,” Ph.D. diss. (University of California, Berkeley, and Graduate Theological Union Joint Degree Program in Near Eastern Religions, 2002), 299-311, 318-330.

[91].  Sheldon, “Book of Job,” 210-250.

[92].  Bottéro, Mesopotamia, 142, 143.

[93].  Alexander the Great encountered Babylonian priests who wanted to perform this ritual on his behalf.

[94].  For an analysis of this ritual, see Bottéro, Mesopotamia, 138-155.

[95].  For a translation of the “Descent of Ishtar to the Netherworld,” see Foster, Before the Muses, 1:403-409.

[96].  For an overview of ancient Near Eastern and Hebrew substitution, see Angel M. Rodriguez, Substitution in the Hebrew Cultus, AUSDDS 3 (Berrien Springs, MI: Andrews University Press, 1979). Rodriguez finds the laying of hands on the victim of expiatory sacrifices as substitutionary (193-201, 305).

[97].  John H. Walton, “The Imagery of the Substitute King Ritual in Isaiah’s Fourth Servant Song,” in JBL 122 (2003): 734-743.

[98].  As Walton states (“Substitute King Ritual,” 740): “It is inferred by the omens that it is Marduk’s will to strike the substitute.” I would correct this by suggesting that it was Marduk’s will to strike the real king, not the substitute king.

[99].  Again, this is not a clear parallel since it is the Servant who sees his descendants and extends his life; whereas the parallel figure, the substitute king, is executed, not living to see his descendants.

[100].  Isaiah 53:3, NRSV.

[101].  Isaiah 53:10, my translation.

[102].  NRSV.

[103].  According to Bruce K. Waltke and M. O’Connor (An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax, 600): “The infinitive construct is a true infinitive, a verb and a noun, and thus a form without necessary restriction as to agency.” It should be noted that the Septuagint translation provides an entirely different line and lacks any sense of God causing the suffering of the Servant.

[104].  NRSV.

[105].  Literally, “struck down of God and afflicted.”

[106].  My translation; italics supplied.

[107].  This is sometimes obscured in versions such as the NRSV. The one exception to this was the wringing off of a bird’s neck, done by the priests, probably for practical reasons (due to the difficulty of utilizing its blood). See Leviticus 5:8.

[108].  For mention of this individual (“ritual slaughterer”) in the rituals for the fifth day of the Akītu Festival, see Cohen, Cultic Calendars, 445.

[109].  This connection is reinforced by the translation of the Hebrew words for “sin” by the Septuagint as “sin,” which in Greek never refer to punishment. Sometimes in the Old Testament, the connection between sin and punishment is so close that sin effects its own punishment. See, e.g., Proverbs 1:29-33; 5:22, 23; 8:36; Psalm 81:11-13; 141:10.

[110].  Genesis 22:12, NRSV.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Freedom in the Truth

A. LOREN SMITH

If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.

—John 8:31, 32, NASB

THE YEAR 1979 FOUND GERMANY IN THE icy grip of the “Cold War.” Communist East Germany had sequestered its citizens behind a boundary of barbed wire, minefields, sniper towers, and a twelve-foot-high, 103-mile-long concrete barrier known as the Berlin Wall.[1] This border proved quite effective in preventing most East Germans from crossing over into West Germany, but what steel and guns could impose on the body had no real power over minds set on liberty. Many answered the call of freedom that beckoned from the west, and many risked and lost their lives in pursuit of the dream that lay just a “few” miles away. Of those whose spirits soared with thoughts of liberation were the Strelczyk and Wetzel families.[2]

After watching an East German television program on the history of ballooning, Peter Strelczyk (an aircraft mechanic) and friend Gunter Wetzel tied their hopes of escaping to the west on a bold plan—they would float across the border in a hot air balloon. The two men built a square cast-iron platform, to which they bolted four propane cooking gas cylinders (used to fuel the makeshift burners). Posts were constructed at each corner of the platform as anchor points for the balloon that their wives stitched together from sixty different pieces of canvas and bed sheets. These items were purchased at different locations so as not to arouse the suspicion of the authorities. By the early morning hours of July 4, everything was ready to go.

The two families—eight souls in all, including the children—made their way through the forest shadows to a meadow about twenty-five miles from the border. First, the balloon was unrolled and attached to the platform; then, the burners were fired up. Little by little, the heated air inflated the hand-stitched billows, and gradually, the teetering bulb of bed sheet and canvas swelled into the night air. The winds were a little stronger than ideal circumstances would provide, but they had come so far, and all was working according to plan. The balloon was holding, the tanks were full, the burners blazed, and the mission remained undetected. They had to go for it. Freedom was holding out its hands.

Up they rose into the swirling blackness, burning much fuel in the fight to maintain control of their homemade craft in the stiff wind. Mile by gut-wrenching mile, the balloon grudgingly drifted toward West Germany. But every drop in altitude required another burst of flame from the burner, and every burst meant another chance to be seen by the East German security forces. Finally, the tanks gave up their last vapors, and the balloon began to sink irreversibly toward the earth and whatever else might be waiting for them.

Despair gnawed away at hope as they sank silently back into East German territory, the border taunting them just a short distance away. But there was a silver lining. Their attempted escape had gone undetected. Everything was hastily packed up and smuggled back home. The quest for freedom had been delayed but would not be stopped. Liberty called louder than any danger they faced.

A week later found the two families back at the meadow, this time with favorable winds. The balloon was inflated, and everyone climbed aboard. A glowing swell of sheets and canvas swung them up into the night sky. The craft managed to reach 8,000 feet; but as they neared the border, they began to lose too much altitude. Suddenly, an East German security searchlight flashed across the balloon. All breathing stopped, and time stood still. No doubt this would mean mobilization of the police. In silent agony they awaited the return of the light, but mysteriously, it never returned. Tense minutes passed; Peter’s eyes strained to pierce the gloom beneath the gondola. At 100 feet off the ground, he began to make out what looked like farming equipment, but it didn’t look like any machinery he was used to seeing in East Germany. At fifteen feet the gas ran out, and the balloon dropped rapidly, crashing into a blackberry thicket.

No one was 100 percent sure if they had gone far enough west. Scrambling to their feet, the two families raced into a nearby barn and hid. Could they celebrate, or were the police just seconds away from storming in? But exultation finally burst upon them after an Audi was spotted—an automobile made exclusively in West Germany. It was a positive sign they had flown far enough. What a sight to behold as the two exuberant families spilled out into the barnyard. They had done it—they were free!

.

.

God has placed a very high priority on freedom, and its principles are so important that he created our very fibers to resonate with and call out for it. Yet the kind of liberation these two families found after escaping into a freer society only just begins to open our understanding to the kind of freedom God intends all of us to experience. God’s purpose is not merely to free our bodies but also to free our minds from the damage sin has caused. In response to this emergency, God has put into motion a great rescue plan involving the healing of our minds and the restoration of the freedom that comes from being united with him in a trusting friendship.

But sometimes God’s plan for us gets lost in the “noise” of life. As members of the human race, we find ourselves born into a broken and sinful world. We get tied up, trapped, and enslaved by all sorts of things and passions. When self calls, how easy it is to answer! And the more we answer, the louder it calls out. It’s a wearying and futile cycle. According to John, it is sin and rebellion that enslave us and take away the freedom that God originally intended for us, for “everyone who sins is a slave of sin” (John 8:34, NLT). The lament of Isaiah is suitable to our condition: “What sorrow for those who drag their sins behind them with ropes made of lies, who drag wickedness behind them like a cart!” (Isaiah 5:18, NLT).

Have you ever felt as if you’re dragging your past around like a rickety cart? Have you ever given up in despair, hopelessly tied up in cords of sin? Have you ever felt like the things of this world have captured and imprisoned your soul behind a barbed-wire-laced wall? Do you long to be lifted into friendly territory? In a name, there is hope. That name is Jesus, and he says to you today: “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand” (Isaiah 41:10, NLT).

Created to Be Free

God never intended the human race to experience the pain and suffering that has come through sin. We were created in God’s own likeness (Genesis 1:26); and he, as the Author of freedom, designed our existence in accordance with principles of freedom. His plan was that we should always experience the liberation that comes from knowing and trusting him as our loving heavenly Father. But when sin entered this world, distrust clouded our view of God. Satan succeeded in introducing into our thinking a vile image of God—a god who harbors malicious intent toward us; one who is a tyrant, not seeking to impart freedom but to selfishly take it away.

But as we observe God’s principles at work in the methods he used to bring the human race into existence, we see a strong argument against the claims of Satan. Had God intended for Adam and Eve not to be free, would he really have given them an opportunity to reject him by placing the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the middle of the garden? In fact, that tree was so important in establishing their freedom that he put it right in the middle of the Garden. He could have planted it on the opposite side of the globe or somewhere just barely visible from the outer edge of the Garden. But he didn’t. He planted it right in the middle. A crucial principle was on display at the tree, and he did not want the human race to miss it.

God knew that sin, by its very nature, would take away our ability to choose that which is best for ourselves—that it would end up giving us the mind and attitude of a slave (see John 8:34). To protect us from this “condition of the mind,” he placed the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the middle of the Garden, right in the path of Adam and Eve. It was as if God were saying to them, “I don’t want you to be in ignorance of the freedom I have given you.” And pointing to the tree, he could say, “See, you are truly free, and here is the place that demonstrates your capacity to exercise that freedom.” What wonderful evidence God gave us to show that he is not interested in slavish servitude but in our freely given trust, based on the evidence he has provided—evidence that reveals a God not hiding things and manipulating our affections, but a God who is open and honest about the dangers of sin, a God willing to give his own life in order to give us the freedom to choose him again.

Slavery. How Did We Get Here?

The Bible documents our tragic slide into slavery, fear, and doubt. It all began with Adam and Eve munching down on the forbidden fruit. Eating that fruit was wrong; and beyond being a mere disregard of God’s warning, it signaled that a much deeper tragedy had occurred in our psyche. We didn’t eat that fruit just because it looked good. We ate it because it came with an idea—a self-flattering, self-empowering idea that maybe God didn’t know what was best after all. Or worse, that he did know and was withholding something that would be to our improved existence. “Did God really say…?” was Satan’s insidious question (Genesis 3:1). “Surely, he didn’t really mean that” was the implication. And the tree that was planted to secure our freedom became the path by which we entered into slavery. As the fruit entered our stomach, the lies about God entered our minds, and in one afternoon trust and admiration for God were replaced by distrust and fear of him. I can almost hear the plaintive call of God as he paced through the gloomy shadows of the garden that evening,

“Adam?”

“Eve?”

“Where are you?”

To this day, we still hide like runaway slaves in the bushes and cower in fear, perhaps even shaking our fist in disgust at the tyrant we believe God to be. We have a hard time seeing him as the loving and trustworthy Father that he is. Instead, we battle with our vision, which seems so easily clouded by the satanic lies we have accepted as the truth about God. In the words of Paul, we “have exchanged the truth of God for a lie” (Romans 1:25). So without a good God to turn to, sin lures us in, sings us to sleep, and ties us up with its strong cords.

A Snake on a Pole

As the Israelites wandered through the wilderness, they encountered many hardships as the result of turning from God. On one such occasion, an infestation of deadly snakes attacked the camp, and many of them died. Moses was instructed by God to make a “fiery serpent” out of bronze and hang it on a pole so that anyone who looked on it might be healed and live (Numbers 21:6-9).

Since God uses analogies throughout the Bible to demonstrate spiritual truths, it’s not too great a leap to see that the snakes represented sin and that being bitten by them represented the consequences of turning away from God. What’s a little more challenging, though, is how God chose to demonstrate the cure. In essence, when Moses upheld the bronze snake on a pole, he was symbolically holding up sin before the people; and as the dying gazed up “at sin,” they were healed. How could it be that the curse would become the cure?

Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:21 that “He [God] made him [Jesus] who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf.” In other words, when Jesus was lifted up on the Cross, he became sin. He became the snake on the pole.

This causes me to pause in silent wonder.

What was happening at the Cross? Why did Jesus have to “become the snake”—the very symbol of evil?

From Tree to Tree: God’s Plan to Restore Our Freedom

At the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, Satan called into question the motives of God. He assassinated his character by accusing God of lying to Adam and Eve about death being the consequence of sin. Adam and Eve believed the lie and fell into fear and distrust of God. And as members of the human race, we are born with the same tendency. We are in a dilemma of monumental proportions. The only One who can restore us and heal us from sin—the One who stands ready to give us back our freedom—is the very One we tend to run from in fear. A physician can only heal the one who entrusts himself to his care, and God can only help us when we come out of the bushes and entrust our souls to him.

God designed that the Cross of Jesus should shatter the lies of Satan and establish God’s righteousness. Paul was moved by the evidence of the Cross to say this: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes….  For in it the righteousness of God is revealed” (Romans 1:16, 17, NASB, emphasis supplied). The Cross is God’s righteousness revealed over and against the lies of Satan. The truth revealed in the Cross is the power that unseats all of Satan’s false charges about the character of God and, when trusted, returns to us the freedom God has wanted us to live in all along.

God, through the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, shows us that he respects the dignity of our freedom to choose. And through the Tree of the Cross, he wins back our freedom. We see revealed in the Cross a love so deep and profound that he “who knew no sin” would be willing to be “made sin” and die the eternal death of a sinner that we might receive life and freedom from him.

Jesus’ voice is just as clear as it has ever been. He’s calling us out of the bushes. He’s imploring us, “Forget about those flimsy fig leaves you’re trying to hide behind. I don’t care about your tattered clothes, sordid past, and unstable present. You’re dying. Please, just come out and look. Look up! I myself have been lifted up. Look! Nothing else matters now. Chains can no longer hold you; walls can no longer keep you in. Keep looking at me! I can get you into friendly territory and heal you. I died for your freedom.” This is the truth—the truth that will surely set you free forever.

[1].  Thinkquest.org, Everything2.com.

[2].  Time.com (original article from Time magazine, October 1, 1979), Howstuffworks.com.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Without the Resurrection of Jesus, All Is Lost

KEN PETERSON, JR.

WE NOW COME TO A CORE TOPIC that has caused trouble down through the centuries since the time of Jesus. It was trouble enough that Thomas Jefferson—the author of the Declaration of Independence, an early American President, and a prominent proponent of the Enlightenment—actually compiled his own “Jefferson Bible,” which conspicuously omits any mention of the Resurrection. Apparently, it was just too much for the rational Jefferson to accept. Can we, however, simply omit the Resurrection and move ahead without it? First, let’s take a look at what the four Gospels actually record about the Resurrection. We can easily and quickly quote the stories.

There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it…. The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said.” (Matthew 28:2-6, NIV).

But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away…. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen.” (Mark 16:4-6, NIV).

They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus…. “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!” (Luke 24:2-6, NIV).

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!” (John 20:1, 2, NIV).

The four passages above contain everything that the four Gospels record about the physical resurrection of Jesus. An earthquake occurred, an angel came down and rolled away the stone at the entrance, and Jesus, we are told, arose from the dead and left the tomb. What could be the significance of an event that was given such minor coverage in the Bible?

Today, more than 100 years after Albert Einstein first wrote about his new theory, we know that powerful things can come from small symbols! Einstein was famous for his extraordinary thought experiments, which helped people grasp his mind-boggling insights. Let’s try our own thought experiment related to the Resurrection. Imagine that everything you have read in this book so far is true. God created the universe and intelligent beings. The relationship between God and the original creation was broken, but God did not give up his desire to dwell with human beings and provided hope of a final “at-one-ment,” which would bring universal harmony. Imagine further that Jesus was born in Palestine 2,000 years ago. He was gentle and compassionate and taught about a new morality beyond tribal prejudice. But he offended the religious and governmental establishments of his day and was finally tortured and killed. Now imagine that the Jesus story simply ended right there, just as it does in the Jefferson Bible.

Throughout human history we can find stories of “good people” who were unjustly treated, abused, and sometimes killed. Thus, it would not be totally unheard of for an exceptionally good person to suffer at the hands of the powerful and evil. Jesus could have been just another example in a long line of Jewish prophets who appeared every now and then to try and change the direction of the chosen people. In our thought experiment, Matthew ends without chapter 28, Mark ends without chapter 16, Luke ends without chapter 24, and John ends without chapters 20 and 21. So what? I submit that everything would be radically different; in fact, as the title of this chapter suggests, I don’t think it would be going too far to say that everything would be lost.

Without the Resurrection, we would just have another story of a nice man speaking some thought-provoking parables, fighting against the power structure of his day, and making some outlandish predictions and claims that might be too much for us to believe today. In fact, we might be tempted to believe he was delusional. Certainly, such a story would not have caused his disciples to worship him and turn the world upside down within a few decades! The Bible itself portrays the disciples as fearful and broken-hearted until the Resurrection.

But that is just our thought experiment. Instead, the Gospels do not stop short. The Resurrection story, coming after Jesus died, caused a radical refocus. This story is something more, seriously more, than the story of Socrates or Ulysses or Buddha. The Gospel authors exhort us to consider seriously that somehow the good guy star of their story has been brought back to life in a very real and physical way. They again lived with him, and they saw him ascend into the sky. Now we have a story that makes you sit up and take notice. It starts to grab you. Even today, we can see the power of such a story in contemporary, postmodern America when we look at our popular media. For example, The Matrix, a blockbuster movie a few years ago, has a similar theme. In the film’s climactic scene, an innocent and compassionate man, Neo, dies as he tries to bring liberty to the captives; but his lover, Trinity, brings him back to life with a kiss. Love triumphs, and the audience loves it.

We could say that The Matrix is seeking to retell a myth. Some scholars argue that the resurrection of Jesus is likewise a myth. However, in this view, such a myth can still be uplifting and positive to those who need such things. But can a mythical resurrection bring salvation?

I think not, and this conclusion is molded by the view that the “illness” from which we need to be healed is not simply psychological and amenable to being treated with “happy thoughts.” Paul catches this elemental truth when he writes: “If there be no resurrection then Christ was not raised; and if Christ was not raised then our gospel is null and void, and so is your faith” (1 Corinthians 15:13, 14, NIV). But why should a mythical resurrection nullify the gospel, which is the power of God to save (Romans 1:16)? The answer has something to do with the profound difference between Christ’s resurrection and the mere resuscitation that Neo and Lazarus experienced.

In other words, even resuscitation is not enough for the radical “change-the-real-world” event that the New Testament portrays as Christ’s resurrection. While rare, the Old Testament tells us of a few people who were raised from the dead. Elijah raised the son of the widow at Zarephath (1 Kings 17). Elisha raised the son of the Shunammite woman (2 Kings 4). And it seems that Moses himself was raised up sometime after his death (Matthew 17:3; Jude 1:9). The New Testament also records a few instances when Jesus raised people from the dead—most memorably, his friend Lazarus (John 11:43). We could say that all of these served to demonstrate God’s power over death. But these people who were raised had died from natural causes, in one way or the other. In other words, they all had simply become sick or grown old and died. What was different about the death of Jesus? Jesus was violently murdered in the prime of life as the result of a death sentence for being a criminal—a sentence imposed by both the highest religious leaders of the chosen people, as well as the imperial governor of the Roman Empire. Jesus was sentenced to death by the most powerful and authoritative tribunals on earth because he deserved it, in the eyes of the church and the state. What was this crime deserving of the verdict of death? According to John 19:7, “The Jews insisted, ‘We have a law, and according to that law he must die, because he claimed to be the Son of God’” (NIV). This was blasphemy. On the Roman side, Pilate was finally convinced to crucify Jesus, upon hearing this argument: “If you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar. Anyone who claims to be a king opposes Caesar” (John 19:12, NIV). In short, Pilate found Jesus guilty of treason against the state, as personified in the emperor.

In essence, then, Jesus was put to death for claiming to be God, the true King of the universe. Only three things can really be said about this audacious claim (taking the cue from C. S. Lewis): It is true, it is a lie, or it is completely insane. We know there are many crazy assertions: I am Napoleon; I am the lost daughter of the Czar; I am a holiday fruitcake; I am the modern-day Jesus Christ. Those making such assertions come and go, and in the end, they die and are forgotten.

Jesus asserted that God was his Father. In fact, he even claimed that if you had seen him, you had seen the Father (John 14:9). Jewish religious authorities, in contrast, said he had a devil. Jesus asserted that he would die and be raised to life. He declared that the leading religious leaders of his day had misled the world about the character of God and presented a satanic view. The crucial question then was: Who is right? The verdict of the church and state authorities was published for the universe to see: Jesus was a dangerous blasphemer, crazy liar, and dangerous pretender to royalty. All appeals were exhausted, except the appeal to the Judge of the Universe. Thus, one way to interpret the essence of the Resurrection is to see it as the definitive final verdict by the Ultimate Authority overturning the prior decisions of earthly authorities. In this case, as compared to a human legal appeal, it was not simply an after-the-fact decision on paper. Rather, the death sentence itself was retroactively nullified, and the One who had been viciously broken was brought back to life and raised to the right hand of the Father.

So now let me ask a question: How was Jesus raised from the dead? The four Gospels do not actually answer this question. After the ascension, Peter answers it for us in his sermon after Pentecost: “You killed the author of life, but God raised him from the dead” (Acts 3:15, NIV). Paul has the same answer: “By his power God raised the Lord from the dead, and he will raise us also” (1 Corinthians 6:14, NIV). However, what are we to make of what Jesus himself said? “I have authority to lay [my life] down and the authority to take it up again” (John 10:18, NIV). Or again, “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25, NIV)? So let me now rephrase the question: Did Jesus raise himself, or did God do it?

The answer is found within the first few words of John’s Gospel. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…. The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:1, 14, NIV). John establishes the divinity of Jesus at the very beginning of his Gospel, in order to form the lens through which we can see everything else. Or, as Paul puts it: “We look at this Son and see God who cannot be seen” (Colossians 1:15, MSG). This may seem like an obvious fact to Christians today, but the disciples themselves did not really believe this on the Sabbath after Calvary. In fact, not until after the Resurrection did they settle into this truth we consider so fundamental today.

This is why the story of the Cross by itself is not enough to see the whole picture. We see at Calvary merely the claim about the nature of God’s character under pressure. Jesus, claiming to be God, says that God is forgiving, loving, and other-centered. But at the end of that Friday, when Jesus has died, we do not know if we are dealing with something true or with jibber-jabber on the order of someone claiming to be a fruitcake. In short, the Cross is something more than a tragic injustice, only because of, and in the light of, the Resurrection. If a deafening silence of the tomb had followed over the days, years, and centuries after the death of Jesus, we could only rightfully say what his disciples said on the first day of the week after the crucifixion: “We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:21, NIV).

But the reality of the Resurrection turned hope into certainty. The Resurrection firmly and finally establishes that Jesus told the truth about what God is really like. God is not the kind of person his enemy has made him out to be:[1] seeking to punish, withholding forgiveness and grace, delighting in the misery of his creatures, demanding egocentric worship on pain of death.

But the Resurrection does even more. The Resurrection gives hope for humanity to escape the endless cycle of birth and death. It confirms that even in the depths of despair, pain, and loneliness, when we realize the futility of saving ourselves, the Creator-God has the power to take dead minds and bodies and create life as it was meant to be. Our only part, in order to enter into that life-quickening experience, is that we are willing to trust this risen God (Acts 16:31). Do we dare to allow Paul’s words to come true in our individual lives: “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27, NIV)?

Since the Cross, by itself, is not enough for a complete understanding of the gospel story, what else can we learn from the Resurrection? It has often been said that Jesus “paid the legal penalty” for sin with his death. The Resurrection, however, calls into question this legal interpretation. If the required penalty for sin is death (Romans 6:23), then the rightful penalty would seem to be unending death. But the Resurrection of Jesus cut short his death and brought him back to life. The penalty for sin, however, is not three days in a tomb and then resurrection—it is simply death. Consequently, the Resurrection seems to indicate that Jesus did not literally pay an imposed legal penalty for sin. The Cross was not simply a legal transaction between God and Jesus. Rather, God himself paid an infinitely high price—the cost of his life—to persuade us of his trustworthiness so that we may come to him and be healed.

Another explanation of Calvary is often offered, whereby Jesus substituted himself for each sinner individually and thereby “took the place” of the sinner, allowing the sinner to take the place of Jesus with respect to obtaining eternal life and forgiveness. Again, the Resurrection seems to mute this merely legal interpretation because the wages of sin is death unending, and that is not what Jesus actually suffered. If the legal payment for sin is unending death, then how could three days substitute for eternal death? Instead, Jesus did not simply substitute himself in a legal sense but in a very tangible and real way. Without the death and resurrection of Jesus, there would be no hope of salvation because the great ideal of complete victory over sin and evil would be nothing more than an attractive speculation resting alongside the dead body of an abused rabbi.

Thus, the Resurrection forces us to question some traditional ways of explaining the Cross. So we must not focus on the Cross alone but see it in the context of the Resurrection. The Cross by itself, while moving us to admiration for the innocent man who quietly suffered a brutal murder, leaves us frightened, exhausted, and maybe even hopeless, just as it left his disciples. But the death and resurrection of Jesus, as a package deal, provides a supreme explanation of reality. It is the great beacon of hope for all of us trapped in this life of falling short of the mark. It reveals to us the reality of God’s sovereign power over evil and his ultimate creative power to finally defeat the wages of sin and reveal himself as the Conqueror of death (Romans 1:4; Revelation 1:18). Even more important than proving God’s power, the Resurrection settles the issue of God’s character because it ratifies Christ’s real-life demonstration.

In summary, the claims of Jesus, in spite of him being given over to evil men and reviled for being a devil, were conclusively validated by the Resurrection as God’s mark of approval for the things Jesus had asserted and demonstrated. If there had been no Resurrection but only the life and death of Jesus, we simply could not have the confidence and assurance we have today concerning the kind of Person God is. In fact, our hopes for a Savior would be shattered, and all would be lost, just as his own disciples initially experienced.

In our age of digital overload and the assault on our emotions of endless hyperbole about this or that disaster and emergency, how do we catch the radical dimensions of the Resurrection? To intellectually assent to this is not enough. The life-changing fact of the Resurrection must somehow get inside our core being. Jesus, that same Jesus, is alive today! And because of his Resurrection, we can also be confident that God will resurrect our physical bodies on that day. But even more than this, the same creative and life-giving power of God must be applied to the “deadness” that often permeates our individual lives, even in the here and now. When we begin to internalize this radical experience of the resurrection of Christ, we will be able to join Peter, when he wrote: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who in his great mercy gave us new birth into a living hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Peter 1:3, NIV).

[1].  Credit goes to Pastor Paul Heubach for this phrase.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The Intercession of Jesus—

A Bridge between Heaven and Earth

CHERILYN CLOUGH

EVERYONE LIKES A GOOD RESCUE STORY, where the hero rides in and saves the day by risking his own life for the kidnapped; but what happens when the hostages refuse to be rescued? In 1971, kidnap victim Patty Hearst Shaw appeared to take part in the crimes of her abusers. In 2007, 15-year-old Shawn Hornbeck was discovered less than fifty miles from the home where he had been abducted at the age of 11. Despite having Internet access, he never contacted his family. Elizabeth Smart even lied about her own name to protect her kidnappers. Known as Stockholm Syndrome, this self-defeating behavior is manifested by victims who experience such sympathy for their captors that they actually resist rescue. Stockholm Syndrome is produced by the convergence of four factors:[1]

1. Victims originally comply as a matter of survival, to protect self or those they love.

2. They experience cognitive dissonance between the perceived kindnesses of the abuser and the evil that is being done to them.

3. They become immersed in the beliefs and methods of the abuser.

4. The captive’s physical inability to escape is often fused with a mental inability to comprehend any other way of life.

While people might shake their heads at the behavior of Patty Hearst Shaw or Elizabeth Smart, the actuality is that the entire human race suffers from a similar condition. We have been separated from our Heavenly Father and plunged into a struggle between life and death, where survival of the fittest seems to be par for the course. Whether we are conscious of it or not, we have all experienced the cognitive dissonance of the enemy: Satan falsely promotes freedom and the ability to be like God while he ensnares us further into slavery. Since our first parents entertained the enemy’s lies, we have become immersed in the beliefs and methods of our abuser, causing many to believe mistakenly that God’s law is the opposite of freedom. As people take stock of our human situation, many despair because they see no escape from this life of war, disease, and death. This is why God became human—to walk among us and show us that there is a way out of this hellish life. In order to win the hearts of the captives, God innocuously entered the enemy’s hostile territory as a baby so we could trust him. As heaven’s diplomat, Jesus became the bridge between heaven and earth (Ephesians 2:14).

To understand how the chasm between God and the human race began, it is important to revisit the scene of the crime. Even before Eve reached out to take that first illicit taste, her mind had already been altered by the serpent’s lies. The eating of the fruit merely reflected the broken trust in God that preceded it. As Eve handed some to Adam, who willfully ate, they began to experience new and painful emotions such as fear, shame, and guilt. Suddenly feeling naked, they tried to dress themselves. God, who had given them every good and perfect gift (James 1:17), now had to call out their names because they were hiding from him (Genesis 3:1-12). When confronted with what they had done, Eve blamed the snake, Adam blamed the woman, and worst of all, he now blamed God for giving him the woman. Satan’s lies had broken their trust in God—their only source of life. Without divine intervention, the intrinsic results of our first parents’ choices would have ultimately led to death for the entire human race (Romans 6:23; James 1:15; Romans 5:12).

Adam and Eve were now miserable in God’s presence, as evidenced by their hiding in the bushes. God longed to help them, but their perceptions of him had been so changed by the enemy’s lies and their own sin that they no longer felt safe around him. Since that day in Eden, humans have been immersed in the lies of the abuser, and we have often imagined that God is someone to be feared; but nowhere in this story do we see God threatening Adam and Eve. With great sadness, God led his frightened children out through the gates of Eden and away from the Tree of Life. God did not desert them for distrusting him; instead, he promised to send help (Genesis 3:14, 15). In love, God sent them away; but in love, he also promised to provide a way back. This way back is the process known as intercession, in which Jesus is the truth, the life, and the way (John 14:16).

When God promised to crush the enemy’s head (Genesis 3:15), he wasn’t threatening some gladiator-type vengeance. The war between God and Satan is not one of physical power (2 Corinthians 10:3-5). If that were the case, it would have been no contest for the Creator to snuff out the life of his created adversary. This war between God and Satan is much more complex and subtle because it must be won in the arena of human minds. God’s heart cannot be satisfied with a mere sullen compliance; he desires to love his children and to be loved by them in return without applying any coercion. By promising to someday crush the serpent’s head, God intended to destroy the work of his enemy—the distorted image of God that is the result of Satan’s lies (1 John 3:8).

It would take millennia to tear down the wall of suspicion built by God’s enemy. Adam not only survived for almost a thousand years, but his descendants also lived for centuries. According to the Bible, seven generations of Adam’s family lived on the earth at the same time. Most of them had probably heard Grandfather Adam tell the story of how Grandpa and Grandma, full of innocence and joy, had once walked and talked with God face to face inside the Garden. The Bible tells us that our Creator was Jesus himself (John 1:1-3; Colossians 1:15, 16). One of Adam’s great grandsons, Enoch, apparently overcame Satan’s lies by walking with the Intercessor (Jesus himself)—who won back Enoch’s trust, thus removing his fear of God. We’re told that Enoch not only prophesied of God but walked with him straight into heaven (Jude 14, 15; Genesis 5:24).

As the centuries went by, the human race became completely immersed in the beliefs and methods of the adversary. Their rebellion separated them from God until they shut God out of their lives completely (Isaiah 59:2). Throughout history, there has been a consistent pattern of God waiting patiently until he has been shut out of human minds. Only when people refuse to acknowledge him does God do his strange acts. He does not do this for himself but in order to save those who might be willing. The day came when God’s communication with the human race had dwindled down to one man. When God saw that some of his children must be put to sleep in order to protect future generations, he warned Noah that he was going to destroy the entire earth with a Flood (Genesis 6:7, 8). The only requirement to be saved was for people to get on the boat. Sadly, the entire antediluvian world ignored Noah’s warnings and perished in the Flood because they didn’t know God enough to trust him.

After providing for Noah and his family throughout their miraculous voyage, God designed the rainbow to remind people of his promise that he will never again destroy the earth with a flood. Satan, the abuser, caused the Flood to be viewed not as the act of mercy that it was but as a vindictive judgment. Fear once again replaced faith as Noah’s descendants built the tower of Babel for protection in case God sent another flood. God’s love for humanity had not changed since Creation (Malachi 3:6, 7; Hebrews 13:8), but his children were far away from knowing him.

Moses Was God’s Intercessor

As centuries of human rebellion against God continued, God’s heart was especially moved when he heard the cries of the Israelites, who had suffered as Egyptian slaves for more than four hundred years (Exodus 2:23-25). Seeking a human representative to speak for him, God captured Moses’ attention with a flaming bush that did not burn up. Obediently, Moses took off his shoes and stepped closer. When he asked God what he should call him, God answered that his name was “I am” (Exodus 3:13, 14). Centuries later, Jesus would use this very same title to describe himself (John 8:58). So there stood Moses in his bare feet, next to a fiery bush, talking to the God who would one day be known as Jesus (1 Corinthians 10:4).

When God first asked Moses to help him deliver his people from Pharaoh, Moses wasn’t convinced that he was the right man for the job. For one thing, Moses had fled from Egypt forty years before because he had lost his temper and murdered an Egyptian. A murderer seemed like a poor representative for God. Despite his initial concerns, Moses chose to obey and agreed to become God’s spokesman to intercede between God and the people.

Through many miraculous signs and wonders, God eventually delivered his people from Egypt, but the former slaves had not been free for very long before they started to complain. As their leader, Moses found their complaints exhausting. Turning to God, Moses spoke to him face to face as a friend (Exodus 33:11). Important to remember is that this “Friend” Moses spoke with was actually Jesus (1 Corinthians 10:4).

God longed to talk to all of his people face to face, but Satan’s lies continued to separate them from him (Isaiah 59:2). Even after witnessing such a miracle as the parting of the Red Sea, the people still preferred to worship false, impotent gods of stone rather than the real God. Despite all that God had done for them, he was still in the sad position of trying to win their respect. This might explain why he came down with thunder and lightning and appeared as a pillar of fire. In terror, the elders of every tribe begged Moses to talk to God for them. Did the people really need Moses to talk to God for them? Moses didn’t think so:

When the people heard the thunder and the trumpet, and when they saw the lightning   and the smoke rising from the mountain, they shook with fear and stood far away from the mountain. Then they said to Moses, “Speak to us yourself, and we will listen. But don’t let God speak to us, or we will die.” Then Moses said to the people, “Don’t be afraid, because God has come to test you. He wants you to respect him so you will not sin.” (Exodus 20:18-20, NCV).

From the people’s perspective, they needed an intercessor (Deuteronomy 5:23-27), but from Moses’ perspective, their fear was unfounded. Did Moses, who was once a murderer, need an intercessor for himself? No, God spoke to Moses face to face as with a friend, clearly and not in riddles (Numbers 12:8). God did not play favorites with Moses, nor does he favor any of his children over another (Acts 10:34); but God meets each one of us individually however he can reach us. Moses was willing to go up on the mountain and meet with him face to face, while the elders chose to keep God at a distance. God’s struggle with the human race has always been how to communicate his love and regain the respect of his deceived and distrustful children. An intercessor is needed when we are afraid of God. “I stood as an intermediary between you and the LORD, [because] you were afraid…” (Deuteronomy 5:5, NLT). The Douay Rheims translation uses the word mediator, which better reflects the intercessory role of Moses in this story.

While Moses was up on the mountain, the people quickly slid back into rebellion and began to worship a golden calf. Because of their unfaithfulness, God presented Moses, the intercessor, with the opportunity to shed that role and become the father of a great nation. “Now, don’t try to stop me. I am angry with them, and I am going to destroy them. Then I will make you and your descendants into a great nation” (Exodus 32:10, GNB).

Moses’ response was a beautiful reflection of the ultimate Intercessor to come: “Please forgive their sin; but if you won’t, then remove my name from the book in which you have written the names of your people” (Exodus 32:32, GNB). God allowed Moses to choose whether he wanted his own glory or the glory of God. God knew the choice that Moses would make, but he wanted Moses to display his selfless love before the onlooking universe. When Moses chose God’s glory, God must have sung over Moses because someone in the human race was finally beginning to have a heart like God. The words spoken from Moses’ human lips were not that unlike the dying words spoken by the Son of God—the ultimate Intercessor, who would someday give his life in order to draw everyone to himself (John 12:32).

Moses was the go-between, the intercessor, to calm Israel’s fears and reveal what God is actually like. Likewise, Jesus came to calm people’s fears and reveal God’s true character. Just as Moses filled the gap between Sinai and the golden calf, Jesus came to bridge the chasm between the heart of God and his distrusting children.

Jesus Intercedes to Show Us What God Is Like

Long after Moses was gone, God himself became the ultimate Intercessor when he stooped down to our human level in the form of Jesus Christ (Philippians 2:5-8). Centuries after rousing Israel’s respect with a cloud of fire and thunder on Mount Sinai, God in human form, now known as Jesus, walked and ate face to face among his kidnapped children. For thirty-three short years, God and humanity joined to refute the enemy’s lies about God’s character. Just as Moses once spoke to God as a friend, the sinners who came in contact with Jesus did not need an intercessor. Shortly before his death, Jesus stressed the point to his friends that he and the Father are one.

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. The only way to the Father is through me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father, too. But now you do know him, and you have seen him.” Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father. That is all we need.” Jesus answered, “I have been with you a long time now. Do you still not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” (John 14:6-9, NCV).

Throughout the centuries, God’s enemy has distorted and misconstrued the mission of Jesus with human tradition, suggesting that Christ’s role as an intercessor is to appease, or shield us from, the Father. This deception implies that the Father has an entirely different attitude and agenda than Jesus, but this is clearly in conflict with Jesus’ own words that “the Father and I are one” (John 10:30, NCV). The writer of Hebrews agrees: “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (Hebrews 1:3, NIV).

Despite Jesus’ clear words that he and the Father are one, the enemy’s lies have nearly erased from human minds the timeless truth that the Almighty God is exactly like Jesus in character. Churches today continue to teach that God the Father demanded an actual blood payment to allow him to forgive sinners. For many Christians, the word intercession has become synonymous with some sort of a legal transaction that appeased either the Father or his immutable law. When Jesus prayed to his Father, however, there was no talk of appeasing him, but rather, of his mission to reveal the Father and reunite the created with their Creator (John 17:4, 26). This lie—that God somehow needs to be appeased or pled with to forgive—was crafted by God’s enemy and is very damaging because it strikes at the very heart of God’s character. God’s glory is his character, and his character is personified forgiveness (Exodus 33:18; 34:5-7). Jesus came to destroy the devil’s work (1 John 3:8) by demonstrating what God’s character actually looks like:

And this is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent. I have glorified You on the earth. I have finished the work which You have given Me to do…. I have manifested Your name to the men whom You have given Me out of the world. (John 17:3, 4, 6, NKJV).

Even before he went to the Cross, Jesus said that his work of representing the Father was already finished because he had glorified the Father (John 17:4). His goal of revealing the Father was to reconcile or unite all things in heaven and on earth (Ephesians 1:9, 10).

Just as sinners did not need a go-between to meet Jesus while he was here on earth, Jesus taught that we do not need an intercessor to plead with the Father to give us another chance and to take us back again. The life of Christ reveals that God is the one who pleads with us. Christ’s intercessory mission was to reveal the Father so that we will trust God once again. When Jesus spoke “plainly” about the Father, he said that it was not necessary for him to plead, pray, or intercede to God for them:

I will no longer speak to you in figurative language, but I will tell you plainly about the Father. In that day you will ask in my name, and I do not say to you that I shall pray the Father for you; for the Father himself loves you…. His disciples said to Him, “See, now You are speaking plainly, and using no figure of speech!” (John 16:24-30, NKJV).

The Goodspeed NT says it this way:

I have said all this to you in figurative language, but a time is coming when I shall not do so any longer, but will tell you plainly about the Father. When that time comes you will ask as my followers, and I do not promise to intercede with the Father for you, for the Father loves you himself because you love Me and have believed that I have come from the Father. (John 16:25-27, emphasis supplied).

J. B. Phillips translated this verse as, “I need make no promise to plead to the Father for you….”

The purpose of intercession has always been to restore us back into unity with God. When we realize that the heart of the Father is the same as Jesus’, there is no longer any need for someone in between. Even more startling, the one in between all along was God (Jesus), which means that there never really was anyone in between other than God himself. Jesus’ words, “I do not promise to intercede,” are fulfilled when we grasp the truth that the Father is just like Jesus in character. The culmination of Jesus’ intercession is for us to fully realize this truth:

If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. (Romans 8:31-34, NIV, emphasis supplied).

Having said all this, we must recognize that there are biblical descriptions of Jesus pleading with the Father. How do we reconcile these with Christ’s words in John that there really is no need? If God does not change (1 Samuel 15:29); if “Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8); if the Father gave his Son to save the world (John 3:16, 17); then why would Jesus be pleading with the Father on behalf of mankind?

My dear children, I am writing this to you so that you will not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate who pleads our case before the Father. He is Jesus Christ, the one who is truly righteous. (1 John 2:1, NLT).

Does this mean that Jesus is actually pleading with the Father to forgive people? The word advocate is translated from the Greek word paracletos, which means “one called alongside to help.” Also, it is translated in various places in the New Testament as “comforter,” “helper,” and “intercessor.” Perhaps we can understand this more clearly by reading the New Century Version:

My dear children, I write this letter to you so you will not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have a helper in the presence of the Father—Jesus Christ, the One who does what is right. (1 John 2:1, NCV, emphasis supplied).

Notice also that the need for an intercessor in this verse is, “if anyone does sin…” In other words, when we were in rebellion, hopelessly separated from God because of fear and misconception of his character, we needed Jesus to mediate for us. Jesus’ role as Intercessor is to restore the relationship between God and fearful sinners that was broken by the darkness of Satan’s lies. Isaiah describes the darkness of the inhabitants of the earth and why the Redeemer intercedes:

We look for light, but there is darkness! For brightness, but we walk in blackness! We grope for the wall like the blind, and we grope as if we had no eyes; we stumble at noonday as at twilight…. He saw that there was no man, and wondered that there was no intercessor; therefore his own arm brought salvation for Him; and his own righteousness, it sustained Him. (Isaiah 59:9, 16, NKJV).

According to Isaiah, God himself is the Intercessor. Jesus brought God’s light into the darkness by revealing that God loves us so much that he would rather let us kill him than allow sin to kill us. “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself”  (John 12:32, NLT). “While we were God’s enemies, he made us his friends through the death of his Son” (Romans 5:10, NCV). Sinful people living out of harmony with God have no hope for a restored relationship without the life of Jesus to draw them into relationship with God. When we finally trust God completely and have come to see the Father and Son as the same in character, we will no longer need an intercessor.

Today, many mistakenly think that the God of the Old Testament is not as loving as the God of the New Testament, but Jesus is the God of both testaments. As Creator, Jesus was uniquely qualified to display God’s character before the entire watching universe. Whether speaking from a pillar of fire or dying on the Cross, his goal in both testaments was to reconcile us back to God (John 17:3).

God became human to enable the human race to relate to him—this was the only way to get his love message through the barriers that his enemy had created. He took this approach, not because God can’t communicate in other ways, but because he chooses to communicate only in love. Before Jesus explained God’s law, humans were confused about how to keep it. Jesus explained the spirit of the law when he taught that looking at a woman with lust was the same as committing adultery with her. The rich young ruler kept the letter of the law, but he was not willing to live out the spirit of the law by giving up everything to God. The people who killed Jesus actually felt they were doing their religious duty to complete their task in time for the Sabbath (John 19:31). Before Jesus came to reveal God’s love, the law had been misconstrued into a legalistic set of rules.

During his life of intercession, Jesus did not destroy the law but filled it with meaning. He showed us how to live out the Ten Commandments, which are simply the broken-down details of how to live out the greatest commandment of all, which is love (John 13:34). Not until Jesus came and modeled God’s law did people begin to realize that God’s law is really all about love (John 13:34). When God’s law of liberty is written on our hearts (James 1:25), it is no longer the letter of the law that we feel compelled to obey; rather, we are motivated by the desire to act out of love. The life of Jesus revealed that God does not desire for his people merely to keep the letter of the law. He longs for us to go further and live out the spirit of the law, which is showing kindness and love for others. Keeping the spirit of the law means we are not motivated by fear of punishment but by God’s love for us (Matthew 5:17-28; John 13:34; 1 John 4:18).

As our Intercessor, Jesus modeled God’s love by revealing how God turns the other cheek to his enemies. Even as the people he came to save inflicted pain on him, Jesus interceded for those who killed him by asking his Father to remove their guilt (Luke 23:34). The word Jesus used was apheimi, which indicates a release from guilt or penalty for the offender. In other words, Jesus asked the Father to remove the guilt from their psyches. He did this not because the Father required him to ask for it but because it is God’s nature to forgive (Exodus 34:5-7). By doing this, Jesus taught us how to forgive our enemies. This brings us reassurance even when we sin today because we know that God is on our side, willing to remove the guilt from our psyches.

Jesus Intercedes for the Benefit of the Entire Universe

The life of Jesus not only reconciled relationships here on earth but relationships in heaven, as well:

God was pleased for all of himself to live in Christ. And through Christ, God has brought all things back to himself again—things on earth and things in heaven. God made peace through the blood of Christ’s death on the cross. (Colossians 1:19, 20, NCV).

Why would sinless angels need Christ’s death? Remember that Eve, who had once walked with God in the Garden of Eden as a sinless being, turned against her Creator when faced with lies about him. Likewise, even the sinless angels needed an intercessor to be convinced about the character and trustworthiness of God, as well as the results of sin and rebellion (1 Peter 1:12). They needed to witness firsthand how God treats his enemies.

Jesus Intercedes for Us with the Father and the Spirit

Jesus is not working alone in this act of intercession. The members of the Godhead always work together. While the Father glorifies Jesus (Acts 3:13), Jesus reveals the Father (John 17:1-3), and the Holy Spirit continues to interpret that revelation of God’s character to human hearts today (John 16:13, 14). As a matter of fact, the Holy Spirit is interceding for us at this very moment (Romans 8:26). All three members of the Godhead are constantly trying to bring us closer to the truth about God so we can trust him more and grow into a deeper relationship with him. The purpose of intercession is to bring us closer to God, not to shield us from him.

Jesus Longs for Us to Join Him in Interceding for Others

Jesus prayed that all those who would come after his disciples would be one, just as he and the Father are one (John 17:11). Paul mentions that we have been given a ministry of reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5:18, 19). As we become one with God, we join the Godhead in intercession every time we share what Jesus has done for us. Every time we expose the lies of God’s enemy, we are interceding for God to calm fears and bring people closer to a true understanding of who God really is. When we pray as Jesus prayed, we join with him and the rest of the Godhead in this precious work of intercession. This is not a new idea. Abraham (Genesis 18), Moses (Exodus 32), and Jeremiah (Jeremiah 14) are some examples of people who have interceded for others. Jesus, as God in human form, personally interacted with social outcasts on a daily basis, and his request is that we “go and do the same” (Luke 10:37).

Even before Jesus came, God intended for Israel to become a nation of priests interceding for the other nations by representing God’s character to them (Exodus 19:5-7). Peter extended this concept to the early Christians: “But you are a chosen people, royal priests, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession. You were chosen to tell about the wonderful acts of God, who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9, NCV).

The final prayer of Jesus describes the purpose of intercession—to bring people into unity with God and with their fellow human beings.

My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and   have loved them even as you have loved me. (John 17:20-23, NIV).

When God’s people become one with him, they will join God in interceding for others in need.

I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. (1 Timothy 2:1-4, NIV).

In this invisible but very real battle over human minds, people who accuse others are, in a way, joining hands with Satan. In contrast, when we pray for God’s will and live according to it, we are interceding along with Jesus by doing our part in bringing people together as one (Matthew 6:10; John 17).

The End of Intercession

Someday, Jesus’ work of intercession on this earth will come to an end. Each person will have made his or her final choice either to trust God or to believe Satan’s lies. Those who choose to put their trust in God will have become new people (2 Corinthians 5:17) and will be sealed with the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 4:30). Revelation speaks of God’s people being sealed in their foreheads. In other words, they will be so convinced about God’s trustworthiness that nothing can change their minds about God. At this point, no one can snatch them away from God’s hand (John 10:28, 29).

God will have left no stone unturned in proving his love to the universe, but despite Jesus’ great sacrifice, there will be some who still refuse to trust him. When their decisions are finalized, and they no longer have any desire to listen to God’s Spirit, Jesus will declare, “Let whoever is doing evil continue to do evil. Let whoever is unclean continue to be unclean. Let whoever is doing right continue to do right. Let whoever is holy continue to be holy” (Revelation 22:11, NCV).

Once the votes have been cast, there is no longer any need for campaigning. When this election is over, people will only have two options—become one with God, or join the ranks of the enemy. At this point, there will be no going back, not because God is unwilling, but because there is nothing more that he can do to persuade them otherwise.

At that time Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will stand up. There will be a time of much trouble, the worst time since nations have been on earth, but your people will be saved. Everyone whose name is written in God’s book will be saved. (Daniel 12:1, NCV).

During this time of trouble, Jesus’ work of intercession will be proven successful to the entire universe. The universe will see a group of people who know God so well that they are no longer tempted by Satan to distrust God or to doubt his love. These people are now one with God in mindset, and they reflect his character. No longer are they afraid of God or his judgment because the knowledge of God’s perfect love has cast out their fear. With boldness, they will come before the throne of God to make their requests known (Hebrews 4:16).

God is love. If we keep on loving others, we will stay one in our hearts with God, and he will stay one with us. If we truly love others and live as Christ did in this world, we won’t be worried about the Day of Judgment. A real love for others will chase those worries away. The thought of being punished is what makes us afraid. It shows that we have not really learned to love. (1 John 4:16-18, CEV).

Conclusion

Throughout earth’s history, God’s enemy has been spraying graffiti in human minds, distorting and obscuring God’s great love. Frightened, sinful people continue to run and hide from God, just as our first parents did so long ago. When we finally realize that Jesus was actually God living among us—first as a vulnerable baby, then as a grown man weeping over Jerusalem, and finally, as a servant washing the feet of his enemies before allowing them to crucify him—we discover that we can trust God. Perfect love casts out all fear because Jesus has proven to the universe that God does not use his power to save himself but rather to serve and to save others. When we discover that the Intercessor—the One in between—is none other than God himself, intercession has fulfilled its purpose and is no longer necessary.

By coming to live among the human race, Jesus encircled both heaven and earth, drawing humanity and God together. The intercession of Jesus is not a mere legal transaction. It encompasses the life-changing ability of God’s infinite love to reverse the damage caused by sin. As the enemy’s lies are erased by the truth revealed in Jesus’ life and death, hearts of stone will be replaced by hearts of flesh (Ezekiel 11:19, 20). As we become one with Jesus, we will view our fellow humans through God’s heart of compassion. God’s glory will spread like a fire throughout the earth when his people finally intercede along with Jesus for his will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.

[1].  See online article by Joseph M. Carver, Ph.D.: “Love and Stockholm Syndrome: The Mystery of Loving an Abuser” <http://drjoecarver.makeswebsites.com/clients/49355/File/love_and_stockholm_syndrome.html>;  online article by Marisa Brook: “Sympathy for the Devil.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Difficult New Testament Passages

SUE LEWIS

THE NEW TESTAMENT CONTAINS PASSAGES that can be difficult to understand. This chapter will deal with subjects contained in four passages:

- Romans 3:25, which deals with why Jesus Christ died.

- Hebrews 9:22, which discusses how Jesus Christ’s death relates to the forgiveness of sin.

- Romans 9, which deals with God’s free choice to save anyone who trusts him.

- Acts 5:1-10, the story of a husband and wife who died because they lied.

Certain interpretations of these passages have put God in a very bad light, sometimes causing him to be thought of as a fearsome deity to be obeyed upon the threat of punishment. Scripture, however, insists that God is love, and that love “turns fear out of doors and expels every trace of terror” (1 John 4:18, AMP).[1] These difficult passages must be interpreted in light of this truth.

I. Romans 3:25—Why Christ Had to Die

In Romans 3:25, 26, we read one of the most detailed explanations of why Jesus Christ died. Paul writes:

For God showed him publicly dying as a sacrifice of reconciliation[2] to be taken advantage of through faith. This was to vindicate his own justice (for in his forbearance, God passed over men’s former sins)–to vindicate his justice[3] at the present time, and to show that he is upright himself, and that he makes those who have faith in Jesus upright also. (Romans 3:25, 26, Goodspeed).

Paul states that God offered Christ in order to demonstrate that he, God, is righteous. Why would anyone think that God was not righteous? When God’s actions are weighed against the Ten Commandments, no one can accuse God of malicious killing, adultery, stealing, or coveting (it would make no sense anyway—everything is his).[4] However, Satan had accused God of lying. In the story of the Garden of Eden, God warns Adam and Eve that if they eat the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, they will die (Genesis 2:16, 17).[5] We then hear the serpent asking our first parents incredulously, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden?’” Satan quickly assures Eve, “You will not surely die…. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:1, 4, 5). Eve, seduced by the prospect of increased power, grasps the tree’s fruit and eats it, degrading her own powers of reason as she does so. Adam joins her in the path of disorderly, disorganized thinking; and in the symbolic gesture of eating the fruit, he too declares his distrust of God.

Not only in Eden do we see the results of God’s children abandoning trust in God, but throughout the entire history of this earth. Having listened to the lies of the Prince of Darkness, we’ve believed that God wants to rob us of happiness. As a result, we’ve refused to live according to our “Manufacturer’s instructions” and have turned to cruelty instead of love in the attempt to find happiness. The results are misery, ruin, and death. Therefore, God, in his mercy, offered his Son as a sacrifice of reconciliation in an attempt to win our hearts and minds (Romans 3:25).

The question arises: How does the death of Jesus Christ lead anyone to trust God? In order to understand, we need to retrace history. When Satan accused God of being a liar, many angels and people remained loyal, yet they had honest questions that needed to be answered. God had said that the person who sins would die (Genesis 2:16, 17; Ezekiel 18:4, 20); yet angels had seen many loving people die, at times more violent and unjust deaths than the wicked. The universe wondered what God meant when he spoke of the death that the sinner will die. God could tell them, “The death I’m referring to is different than the one you’ve seen—it will take place later.” Yet because the universe had never seen this death, questions remained.

The questions were about God, so God himself came to earth to answer them. Christ loved his children so much that he would rather die the death of the sinner than see any of his children experience it. Both in Gethsemane and on Golgotha, Christ demonstrated the death that is the natural result of sin. Christ tells his disciples in Gethsemane, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38). In other words, he gasps, “I’m dying.” Significantly, the death-inducing depression that Jesus experienced was caused by sorrow, not fear. Christ, the Prince of Peace, knew that he was right with God. Many times he’d mentioned without flinching that he would be “lifted up.” The cup of inexpressible sorrow that Christ drank in Gethsemane, he chose to drink to the dregs on Golgotha (John 18:11). What was the cause of this life-destroying grief, this “cup” that eventually caused Christ’s death? Evidence is found in Christ’s words, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34). The sense of separation from God—the Source of our life, joy, and peace—was the bitter cup that caused his death.

As Christ was dying, the universe watched intently as God responded to its questions— “What is the death that the sinner will die?” “Is this death execution at the hands of God, or is it a natural consequence of sin?” God did not lay a hand on his Son in Gethsemane or on Golgotha. The natural result of sin—separation from God—caused Christ’s death and will cause the death of the wicked in the end. Romans 6:23 states this very clearly: “For sin pays its wage—death” (Romans 6:23, GNB, emphasis supplied).

Understanding this premise is crucial, because if God were to execute the wicked, the universe would serve God out of fear. There can be no true love or peace throughout the universe if fear is the motive for obedience. John, one of Christ’s most careful students, insists repeatedly that God is love, and clarifies, “There is no fear in love. Instead, perfect love drives fear away” (1 John 4:18, NIRV). If Christ had been executed at the hands of God, the hearts of intelligent beings throughout the universe would have developed distrustful, resentful sentiments that would have eventually erupted into rebellion.[6]

In light of this understanding, the word justice[7] used in Romans 3:25 cannot refer to a decision on the part of God to execute Christ instead of us.[8] God’s justice consists of having created a universe in which the natural consequence of sin is death—God is both just and merciful to have set up the universe so that cruelty cannot exist forever. As the universe watched Jesus die, God’s justice was thoroughly vindicated in the minds of his children. They saw that God had not lied when he said, “The person who sins will die.” At the same time, they saw that God would not execute his rebellious children—instead, his children would decide their own destiny.

Christ himself teaches that the sinner will not die from a decree of execution at the hands of God. In John 5:22, Christ reveals that God has given all judgment to him, yet he goes on to say, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to judge anyone” (John 12:47, my paraphrase). Christ subsequently warns, however: “But everyone who rejects me and my teachings will be judged on the last day by what I have said” (John 12:48, CEV, emphasis supplied). Since God lets his teachings condemn us, he is not the one who condemns—we condemn ourselves. We, not God, are responsible for whether we live or die. This being the case, there is no chance of anyone being destroyed by an arbitrary decree on the part of God. In the end, the sinner will have destroyed himself.

Christ, in Gethsemane and on Golgotha warns us of the death that the unrepentant sinner will experience (2 Corinthians 5:21; Isaiah 53:6, 10). In reference to his death, Christ clarifies: “No one takes it [my life] from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (John 10:17, 18). In essence, Christ says: “No one is going to execute me. No one can. I’m God.” Yet Christ voluntarily laid down his life as a “sacrifice of reconciliation” that served to “show that he is upright himself, and that he makes those who have faith in Jesus upright also” (Romans 3:25, Goodspeed).

Jesus was upright until the end. During a trial that violated every precept of justice, he made no railing accusations. Seeing that Pilate would hand him over to be scourged and crucified, he excused Pilate’s sin as far as was possible (John 19:11). When his back was ripped and torn from scourging and when a crown of thorns was crushed into his head, he never opened his mouth. As women of Jerusalem grieved over his fate, his concern was for them (Luke 23:27-31). As Roman soldiers nailed Christ to the cross, he asked God to forgive them (Luke 23:34). The two thieves crucified alongside Jesus scorned and ridiculed him for bearing the title, “the King of Israel” (Matthew 27:44; Mark 15:32). When one of the thieves came to appreciate the royalty of Christ’s character, however, he had a change of heart and asked Christ to remember him when he came into his reign. In the midst of unspeakable agony, Christ immediately moved to assure him, “I’m telling you the truth as I speak to you today—you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43, paraphrased). In the death of Jesus Christ, God unveiled the splendor of his love, a love that longs to be gracious to his erring children (Isaiah 30:18). What is the universe’s response to this incredible demonstration of God’s love? The universe breaks out in spontaneous, heartfelt praise—“Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!” (Revelation 5:12). Paul says, “And God was pleased for him to make peace by sacrificing his blood on the cross, so that all beings in heaven and on earth would be brought back to God” (Colossians 1:20, CEV).

What is the response of people on earth who understand what God has done? Paul, having murdered many of Christ’s followers in his earlier years, exclaims: “We were God’s enemies, but he made us his friends through the death of his Son. Now that we are God’s friends, how much more will we be saved by Christ’s life!” (Romans 5:10, GNB). We are reconciled. As Peter writes, “For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God” (1 Peter 3:18).

No longer rebels, but now friends with God, we spontaneously long to share the understanding of God’s love with others:

Our message is that God was making all human beings his friends through Christ. God did not keep an account of their sins, and he has given us the message which tells how he makes them his friends. Here we are, then, speaking for Christ, as though God himself were making his appeal through us. We plead on Christ’s behalf: let God change you from enemies into his friends! Christ was without sin, but for our sake God made him share our sin in order that in union with him we might share the righteousness of God. (2 Corinthians 5:19-21, GNB).

“In union with him”—in harmony and at-one-ment with God—this is the reconciliation for which Christ’s sacrifice was made (Romans 3:25). This sacrifice of at-one-ment must never be reduced to a mere legal adjustment made on an accounting ledger in heaven. Reconciliation—at-one-ment—can only be created in the hearts of intelligent beings. As Paul says, “By his one sacrifice he has forever set free from sin the people he brings to God. The Holy Spirit also speaks of this by telling us that the Lord said, ‘When the time comes, I will make an agreement with them. I will write my laws on their minds and hearts’” (Hebrews 10:14-16, CEV).

God makes this covenant with many through Jesus Christ’s death. When we study the death of Christ and are awed by the love displayed there, the kindness of God leads us to repentance (Romans 2:4). God takes away our stony hearts and gives us a heart of flesh (Ezekiel 11:19; 36:26). We become a new person (2 Corinthians 5:17; Galatians 6:15). Christ’s prediction regarding his death is fulfilled—“And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all to Myself” (John 12:32, NKJV). The Spirit of God implores his children to understand his great sacrifice of love and be at-one with him.

II. Hebrews 9:22—Jesus Christ’s Death vs. Forgiveness of Sin

And according to the Law, one may almost say, all things are cleansed with blood, and without shedding of blood there is no forgiveness. (Hebrews 9:22, NASB).

And according to the law almost all things are purified with blood, and without shedding of blood there is no remission. (Hebrews 9:22, NKJV).

Hebrews 9:22 is often interpreted to mean that God insisted that blood had to be shed before he was willing to forgive. A common perspective is: “Everyone has sinned. Death is our sentence, but because Christ was put to death instead of us, God can forgive us.” This interpretation, however, is not in harmony with the principles of the Judeo-Christian Scriptures. Christ’s death was not a demonstration of how God would have executed us if he had not exchanged Christ’s death for ours. As our Substitute, Christ demonstrated what sin would inflict upon us if we refused to turn to God for spiritual healing. Recognizing that fact, this discussion will explore what Hebrews 9:22 cannot mean, as well as what it can mean. In the process, the conclusion will be drawn from the context of Hebrews, as well as the entirety of Scripture, that because of the absolute trust created when Jesus Christ died, the universe can also have faith in God’s diagnoses of our spiritual health. This trust has made our eternal inheritance secure. The cleansing of distrust is what Hebrews 9:22 speaks of when it says, “And according to the Law, one may almost say, all things are cleansed with blood, and without shedding of blood there is no forgiveness” (NASB).[9]

What Hebrews 9:22 Can’t Mean

Why can’t Hebrews 9:22 mean that God executed Christ so that he wouldn’t have to punish us? Scripture makes it clear that God considers executing one person for another to be a grossly unethical act.

The people of Israel burned their sons and daughters in fire as sacrifices to “God.” God said they did this even “though I never commanded, nor did it enter my mind, that they should do such a detestable thing” (Jeremiah 32:35; see also Jeremiah 7:31 and 19:5). If it was abhorrent to God that a baby be burned so that he would forgive, it’s also detestable to God that a grown man be crucified for the same purpose.

In the book of Deuteronomy, Moses relays God’s mandate to Israel: “Fathers shall not be put to death for their children, nor children put to death for their fathers; each is to die for his own sin” (Deuteronomy 24:16). The question naturally arises: Would God be ethical, then, if he executed Christ instead of executing us?

The book of Ezekiel also records God’s aversion to substitutionary execution. Israel’s understanding about what was right and wrong had become severely warped, so God, through his prophet Ezekiel, corrected Israel’s concept of justice. In Ezekiel 18, God repeatedly states that no person is to be punished for the sins of another. God stipulates: “The soul who sins is the one who will die…. The righteousness of the righteous man will be credited to him, and the wickedness of the wicked will be charged against him” (Ezekiel 18:20). God does not violate his own principles (Malachi 3:6). In our interpretation of Hebrews 9:22, we must not say that he does.

Like Ezekiel, Jesus Christ brought people back to a correct understanding of God’s values (Matthew 5:17-48; Leviticus 19:17, 18). Christ taught that if people wrong us and are subsequently sorry, we are to forgive them. Christ’s instructions are clear and concise: “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him” (Luke 17:3). The only prerequisite for pardon is sincere sorrow for the offense. If we are to be like our Father in heaven, we are to forgive without inflicting pain upon anyone.

If forgiving without payback or punishment is to be like God, we cannot interpret Hebrews 9:22 to mean that God had to execute Christ before he would forgive.[10] Many people who saw Christ’s crucifixion thought that God was executing him, but the prophet Isaiah specifies that he was not:

He certainly has taken upon himself our suffering and carried our sorrows, but we thought that God had wounded him, beat him, and punished him. He was wounded for our rebellious acts. He was crushed for our sins. He was punished so that we could have peace, and we received healing from his wounds. (Isaiah 53:4, 5, GW, emphasis supplied).

Isaiah emphasizes to us that Christ, as he was dying, was not serving as a “whipping boy” for God’s anger. People wounded, beat, and punished Christ. God allowed this to happen, because he saw that it could result in the spiritual healing of his children. In the death of Jesus Christ, we see God so dedicated to our freedom that he would let his children spit in his face rather than violate their liberty. Through this revelation of the character of God, many hearts are won to trust.

God has gone to great lengths to gain our trust. To reduce God to a Person who demands that blood be shed before he’s willing to forgive is a travesty of the first order. Pagan gods require that blood be shed before they will forgive, but the living God emphasizes that he does not. God found it necessary to reiterate this fact through many of his prophets. The prophet Micah, speaking rhetorically for sinful Israel, asks:

With what shall I come before the LORD and bow down before the exalted God? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?

Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? (Micah 6:6, 7).

The answer is not “Yes, God requires blood before he’ll forgive.” Instead, the response is:

He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8).

We can ask the same question of God today: “With what shall I come before you, Lord? Should I bring the blood of your Son so that you’ll forgive me?” God’s response would be, “What? I didn’t want the blood of sacrificial animals that represented my Son, so likewise, I don’t want the blood of my Son. As Micah said, slain animals or people cannot create reconciliation between you and me. My heart longs for you to act justly, to love mercy, and to have a teachable spirit ready to learn from me. What I want is the living sacrifice of a loving heart.”[11] God’s desire for love rather than sacrifice is also reflected in the book of Amos. Speaking to Israel, God says,

Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them. Though you bring choice fellowship offerings, I will have no regard for them. Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream! (Amos 5:22-24).

God, through the prophet Hosea, seconds these sentiments, saying: “I want your constant love, not your animal sacrifices. I would rather have my people know me than burn offerings to me” (Hosea 6:6, GNB).[12], [13], [14]

In addition to Hosea, Amos, Micah, Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Moses, other Old Testament prophets teach that God has no desire that blood be shed in order to gain his forgiveness. In Psalm 50:13 God asks: “Do I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood of goats?” God insists, “I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats…. Stop bringing meaningless offerings!” (Isaiah 1:11, 13). God made it very clear that the sacrificial shedding of blood was not a ticket to forgiveness.

The question naturally arises, “What were the ceremonial sacrifices for, then?” God says that his instructions were given for our good (Deuteronomy 10:13). Hebrews 10:3 tells us that “the sacrifices serve year after year to remind people of their sins” (GNB). The object lessons taught in the ceremonial law served to teach that sin causes death and that one day an innocent victim, Christ, would die for the healing of people’s sins. As Romans 3:25 says, God offered Christ’s sacrifice to us in order to shine light about the character of God into spiritually sensitive hearts.

King David had a heart that was sensitive to the Spirit of God. After God convicted him of the murder of Uriah, David was brokenhearted. In his grief, he reflects:

You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. (Psalm 51:16, 17).

If David thought that sacrifice was the prerequisite for forgiveness, he would have been offering one instead of talking to God. David perceived that what God wants is a heart that hates the insanity of sin—a heart that longs to be healed.[15] This David offers to God in his plea, “Create a clean heart in me, O God, and renew a faithful spirit within me. Do not force me away from your presence, and do not take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore the joy of your salvation to me, and provide me with a spirit of willing obedience” (Psalm 51:10-12, GW).

After pouring out his heart to God in these words, David doesn’t say, “So I won’t bother to offer any sacrifices, God, since you know I’m truly sorry, and I know you don’t need them.” David knew that he himself needed the sacrifices and goes on to say: “Then you will be pleased with sacrifices offered in the right spirit—with burnt offerings and whole burnt offerings…” (Psalm 51:19, GW). David saw the necessity of sacrifices for his own good—he was willing to participate in the object lessons that God prescribed. Yet before David had offered any sacrifice, he had already returned to being a man after God’s own heart, and he had been forgiven (1 Kings 14:8).

Just as a lamb did not need to be executed before God was willing to forgive, as well as bring healing to David’s heart, Christ (the Person the lamb represented), did not need to be executed to make God willing to forgive and heal our hearts. The New Testament Book of Hebrews describes what Christ’s sacrifice involved:

First he [Christ] said, “Sacrifices and offerings, burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not desire, nor were you pleased with them” (although the law required them to be made). Then he said, “Here I am, I have come to do your will.” He sets aside the first to establish the second. (Hebrews 10:8-10, emphasis supplied).

In these verses the writer of Hebrews explains how sacrificial offerings were replaced by what they represented. The sacrifice Christ offered to God did not involve substitutionary execution. The sacrifice that Christ offered to God was his heart. He loved to do God’s will with his entire mind, body, and soul—even to the point of “pouring out his soul to death” for our spiritual healing (Isaiah 53:12).

What Hebrews 9:22 Can Mean

If God does not require blood before he’s willing to forgive, what interpretations of Hebrews 9:22 would be in harmony with the principles of Scripture? Bible verses can be like diamonds with many facets, reflecting truth on various levels.

On a personal level, Israelites who had sincerely repented of their sins would have willingly taken part in the ceremonial sacrifices God prescribed for their spiritual health. Refusal to participate would have indicated a rebellious attitude toward God. The issue is not that God was unwilling to forgive, but that by a stubborn refusal to participate in God’s plan for healing, as modeled in the sacrificial system, the people would have revealed themselves to be hardened rebels; and hardened rebels are not safe to pardon. In this sense, for people living under the instruction of the ceremonial law, without the shedding of blood, there could be no forgiveness.

Also on a personal level, Hebrews 9:22 can refer to the spiritual healing that takes place in people who’ve learned about Christ’s death.[16] Instead of using the word forgiveness in Hebrews 9:22, many translations, i.e., the New King James Version, use the word remission. When a patient with cancer responds to treatment, and the cancer is eradicated, it is considered to be “in remission.” Sin, the distrust of God, is a spiritual disease far more serious than leprosy or cancer. The life and death of Jesus puts our distrust and fear of God into remission. The love of God displayed in the tender, forgiving heart of Jesus—even as he was tortured and put to death at the hands of his sin-sick children—has the power to heal hearts (Romans 5:10; Ephesians 2:13; 1 Peter 3:18; 2 Corinthians 5:18-21).

On a cosmic level, only the death of Jesus Christ could win the universe to trust God implicitly. When it saw the terrible wage that sin pays, the universe was awed by the lengths to which God would go in order to win the minds and hearts of his children. As Hebrews 9:23 discusses, heaven was cleansed of any potential distrust—absolute trust reigned supreme:

Therefore it was necessary for the copies of the things in the heavens [the earthly sanctuary] to be cleansed [symbolically] with these [the blood of sacrificial animals], but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these [Jesus Christ’s life and death]. (NASB, emphasis and brackets supplied).

Paul celebrates this fact in his letter to the Colossians: “For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him [Jesus Christ], and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross” (Colossians 1:19, 20, emphasis supplied). Or, as the Contemporary English Version so simply puts it: “And God was pleased for him to make peace by sacrificing his blood on the cross, so that all beings in heaven and on earth would be brought back to God.”

When the universe came to trust God implicitly, it also came to trust God’s diagnosis of his forgiven children. When God declared that the thief on the cross was safe to save, instead of rising up in protest out of concern for their future safety, the universe celebrated with joy. Through the death of Jesus Christ, God’s gift of eternal life was made secure.

The inheritance of the thief is our inheritance as well. Significantly, the direct context of Hebrews 9:22 concerns our everlasting inheritance. Hebrews 9:17 points out that an inheritance is received only upon the death of the giver—“A will is in effect only when somebody has died” (NIRV). In Hebrews 9:15 we read, “Now those God calls to himself will receive the eternal gift he promised. They will receive it now that Christ has died” (NIRV). Upon the death of Jesus Christ, God’s covenant that promises us eternal life was ratified. Instead of being contested by a distrustful universe, God’s will was put into effect.

In summary, we see that the context of Scripture does not allow us to interpret Hebrews 9:22 to mean that Christ died in order to gain God’s forgiveness. Instead, this verse shines light on the self-sacrificing love of both God the Father and his Son. Together, they endured incomprehensible suffering in order to win us and the entire universe back to God.

Romans 9—God’s Free Choice to Save Those Who Trust Him

Therefore, God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden. (Romans 9:18).

I was raised in a Calvinist household. I remember asking my mother as a young girl how people could know if they believed in Jesus Christ. My mother told me that God gives the gift of faith to people he decides to save. I asked how people could know if God had given them this gift. The response was, “Well, you just know, that’s all.” Since I questioned my belief in Jesus Christ, I thought that God hadn’t given me the gift of faith. That made me a lost soul, according to a Calvinist’s interpretation of Romans 9. Many understand Romans 9 to say that people have no free choice or responsibility in respect to salvation—God picks certain people to be saved—and the rest are tormented forever in hell. That, I thought, was to be my lot. When I questioned God’s fairness, my mother’s response was, “Who are we to question God?”

As a teenager, I rejected religion altogether. God, as far as I could see, was a sadistic monster who chose only some people to be saved and let everyone else be tormented for eternity. Later, when the historical evidence of Christ’s death and resurrection led me to believe in Jesus Christ, I confronted Romans 9 once again. As I learned more about the Bible, I became solidly grounded in the fact that God despises partiality (Exodus 23:3; Deuteronomy 1:17; 10:17; 16:19; 2 Chronicles 19:7; Job 13:10; Psalm 82:2; Proverbs 18:5; 24:23; 28:21; Isaiah 3:9; Malachi 2:9; Mark 12:14; Luke 20:21; Acts 10:34; Romans 2:11). I was convinced that the Bible would not change that stance in Romans 9, especially since Paul had just reiterated in Romans 2 that “there is no partiality with God” (Romans 2:11, NASB). The Bible must always be interpreted in the context of its whole. Likewise, Romans 9 should be read in the context of Romans 1-8. These chapters speak of God’s impartial character and give us further insight into the concern Paul is addressing in his letter to the church at Rome.

In the first few chapters of Romans, Paul tells us that we are all in the same boat. Everyone has sinned and has fallen short of God’s goodness (Romans 3:23, paraphrased). Therefore, it is impossible for people to earn their salvation. Paul goes on to say that the law cannot provide spiritual healing—it can only point out our spiritual disease (Romans 3:20). The only Person who can heal us is God, if we trust him (Romans 3:21, 22). This trust is to be based upon the evidence that God has provided about himself in the things that he has made—nature’s order and intricacy, the need for love, etc. (Romans 1:18-20). Since we are to weigh this evidence and decide, free choice and personal responsibility have to be operative. Yet if Romans 9 does not negate people’s free will, what does it say? One important key to understanding this lies in identifying Paul’s audience.

Since Rome was a cosmopolitan city in Paul’s day, the church at Rome included Jewish as well as Gentile believers. Romans 9 is directed, for the most part, to Jewish Christians. The Jewish people of Paul’s era believed that being a Jew—that is, being descended from Abraham and observing Jewish rituals—made them children of God. Manfred T. Brauch writes:

The Jewish people prided themselves in the fact that God had chosen Israel and had not chosen the Gentiles…. The Jewish people also prided themselves on their adherence to the Mosaic law. Surely God would reward their careful observance with salvation; surely he would not select Gentiles for salvation when the Jews were so much more righteous.[17]

The Jews of Paul’s day insisted that Gentiles who wanted to convert to Judaism must become Jewish by adhering to the Jewish rite of circumcision. Christianity was considered to be a sect of Judaism; therefore, many Jewish Christians embraced this stance. In Romans, Paul disagrees with this position, insisting that it is not the observance of religious rituals that makes one a child of God. Instead, anyone who trusts God, as Abraham did, is God’s child (Romans 4). Paul even says that there are some heathens who know nothing about Scripture who are considered to be “just before God” because they “instinctively” do what Scripture says (Romans 2:13-15, NASB). This comment could not have set well with many Jewish believers. In Romans 9, Paul once again challenges his Jewish audience with the fact that God has promised salvation to anyone who trusts him, emphasizing that it is God’s promises that are and always have been the determining factors in human history—not anything people have done.

A brief overview of Romans 9 helps us to trace this theme.[18] At the start of the chapter, Paul expresses grief that his race, the Jewish nation, has for the most part rejected a belief in Jesus Christ and his teachings (Romans 9:1-5). Paul insists, however, that the promises God made to Israel have not failed because not everyone from the nation of Israel belongs to “spiritual Israel,” and not all of Abraham’s physical descendants are Abraham’s “spiritual children” (Romans 4; 9:6, 7). Spiritual Israel, Paul says, is made up of people who trust God’s promises, just as Abraham trusted God’s promise that Isaac would be born (Romans 1:17; 4; 9:8, 9). Paul discusses how God’s promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were not based upon anything they had done (Romans 1:17; 9:10-16). He goes on to explore how God’s promises have been carried out, even when he came up against a rebel like Pharaoh (Romans 9:17, 18). Paul argues that God has the authority to make the decisions and promises he does because he is our merciful Creator (Romans 9:19-24). He glories in the fact that God’s purposes throughout history have drawn people from every nation to himself (Romans 9:23-26). Paul moves on to discuss how Scripture had foretold that some from the nation of Israel would not be saved (Romans 9:27, 28). In conclusion, Paul declares that many people from other nations had learned to live good and honest lives because they trusted God; whereas many from the Jewish nation had not because they thought religious practices earned their salvation (Romans 9:29-33).

We see how Paul argues his points, as we examine Romans 9 in closer detail. In Romans 9:7, 8, Paul writes:

Nor are all of Abraham’s descendants the children of God. God said to Abraham, “It is through Isaac that you will have the descendants I promised you.” This means that the children born in the usual way are not the children of God; instead, the children born as a result of God’s promise are regarded as the true descendants.[19] (Romans 9:7, 8, GNB, emphasis supplied).

Using the words children born as a result of God’s promise as a springboard, Paul goes on to develop the premise that God’s promises are the deciding factors in human history. In verse 9, Paul emphasizes how God’s promise was pivotal in the birth of Isaac: “For this is a word of promise, ‘At the appointed time I will come, and Sarah will have a son’” (Romans 9:9, WEB, emphasis supplied).[20]

God’s promise was also paramount, Paul points out, in the situation of Jacob and Esau. Before the twins were born, God told Rebecca, “Your two sons will become two separate nations. The younger of the two will be stronger, and the older son will be his servant” (Romans 9:10-12; Genesis 25:23, CEV).[21] Paul explicitly states, “The Lord said this to show that he makes his own choices and that it wasn’t because of anything either of them had done” (Romans 9:11, 12 CEV). Manfred T. Brauch, writing in the book Hard Sayings of the Bible, comments: “Isaac was not better than his brother Ishmael; Jacob not better than his brother Esau. In other words, they were not ‘more deserving.’ In fact, on purely human terms, Jacob’s deception should have made him less deserving (Genesis 25, 27).[22]

Brauch goes on to say:

While Abraham had more than one son, God chose Isaac as the one through whom the promise would be passed down. Isaac also had more than one son, but God chose Jacob   and not Esau. Any Jewish reader would nod affirmingly, especially if he or she had not read the opening verse (Romans 9:6): “For not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel” (RSV). Paul’s reason for arguing this is not to prove that God could choose the Hebrew people for his purposes and reject others. All Jews knew this. Paul is pointing out that if this is the case, God can also choose some Jews and reject others. Paul is using the Jews’ own teaching against their national complacency.[23]

Anticipating objections on the part of his audience, Paul asks, “Shall we say, then, that God is unjust? Not at all. For he said to Moses, ‘I will have mercy on anyone I wish; I will take pity on anyone I wish.’ So then, everything depends, not on what we humans want or do, but only on God’s mercy’” (Romans 9:14-16, GNB). In quoting the Old Testament, Paul is citing an authority that a devout Jew would not dare argue against. The same Jewish Scriptures which say that God is just also record God as saying, “I will have mercy on anyone I want” (Exodus 33:19, paraphrased). Therefore, Paul concludes, God is just in saying that he will have mercy on people who trust him, be they practicing Jews or not.

Paul goes on to propose that if God can have mercy on anyone he desires, God can also cause people, i.e., Pharaoh, to “harden” their hearts. The question naturally arises, “How did God harden Pharaoh’s heart, and why would he do such a thing?” In the Bible, God is often spoken of as being responsible for what he does not prevent. God constantly respects our freedom, so if we insist on believing a lie, he will not intervene to prevent us from doing so. In the Book of Exodus, we find that Moses refers to God’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, as well as to Pharaoh’s hardening of his own heart (Exodus 4:21; 9:12; 10:1, 20; 14:8, 8:15, 32). Sun hardens clay and melts butter. Likewise, when Pharaoh was exposed to the truth about God, Pharaoh’s “clay-like” heart was hardened.

God longed for Pharaoh to embrace truth; yet when his pride stood in the way, God worked through Pharaoh’s obstinacy to reveal his power and love. Paul comments:

In Scripture, God says to Pharaoh, “I had a special reason for making you king. I decided to use you to show my power. I wanted my name to become known everywhere on earth.” So God does what he wants to do. He shows mercy to one person and makes another stubborn. (Romans 9:17, 18, NIRV).

Through Pharaoh’s hardened heart, Egyptian gods were shown to be powerless. Through Israel’s exodus from Egypt, God’s existence, his concern for oppressed people, and his overriding power were made known to other nations. The hardening of Pharaoh’s heart had taken place under God’s jurisdiction. Just as God worked through Pharaoh’s rejection of truth, Paul implies that God will also work through the Jewish nation’s rejection of truth.[24] Paul anticipates objections once again:

But one of you will say to me, “If this is so, how can God find fault with anyone? Who can resist God’s will?” But who are you, my friend, to talk back to God? A clay pot does not ask the man who made it, “Why did you make me like this?” After all, the man who makes the pots has the right to use the clay as he wishes, and to make two pots from the same lump of clay, one for special occasions and the other for ordinary use. (Romans 9:20, 21, GNB).

In Romans 9:20-24, Paul describes the “Master Potter”[25] as having been very patient with various vessels he had created:

What if God, although willing to demonstrate his wrath and to make his power known, endured with much patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction? And he did so to make known the riches of his glory upon vessels of mercy, which he prepared beforehand for glory, even us, whom he also called, not from among Jews only, but also from among Gentiles. (Romans 9:22-24, NASB).

After establishing God’s right to use any person or group of people to fulfill his merciful purposes, Paul reiterates the main theme of Romans 9—God has every right to promise salvation to anyone who trusts him. Expounding upon this theme, in verses 25-29, Paul cites a series of verses from the Old Testament to substantiate that many people from the Jewish nation will not be safe to save, while many people from other nations “will be called ‘sons of the living God’” (Romans 9:26, NASB). In summary, Paul says:

So, what are we to say? This: that Gentiles, even though they were not striving for righteousness, have obtained righteousness; but it is a righteousness grounded in   trusting! However, Isra’el, even though they kept pursuing a Torah that offers righteousness, did not reach what the Torah offers. Why? Because they did not pursue righteousness as being grounded in trusting but as if it were grounded in doing legalistic works. (Romans 9:30-32, CJB).

It becomes clear that Romans 9 ties into one of the main themes found in the book of Romans—that God can bring spiritual healing to anyone who trusts him, regardless of race or religious tradition. In Romans, Paul argues that any attempt to earn salvation through adherence to religious practices is worthless because even when people live without conscious sin, “all have sinned and are falling short of the honor and glory” of God (Romans 3:23, AMP, emphasis supplied). What is of worth is God’s promise that those who inherit the world will do so not “through legalism but through the righteousness that trust produces” (Romans 4:13, CJB).

Ananias and Sapphira—A New Testament Couple Who Died Because They Lied

The teachings of Jesus flow with love and grace. Therefore, it’s a bit of a jolt when we read the New Testament story of Ananias and Sapphira, who died because they lied.

In order for us to understand their story, it’s helpful to reflect upon what the early Christian church was like. Right after the Day of Pentecost, the newborn church was vibrant and loving, but being in its infant stage, it was also frail and vulnerable. Luke reports: “On that day [the Day of Pentecost] about three thousand believed his message and were baptized. They spent their time learning from the apostles, and they were like family to each other. They also broke bread and prayed together” (Acts 2:41, 42, CEV). Incredible miracles were taking place:

Everyone was amazed by the many miracles and wonders that the apostles worked. All the Lord’s followers often met together, and they shared everything they had. They would sell their property and possessions and give the money to whoever needed it. Day after day they met together in the temple. They broke bread together in different homes and shared their food happily and freely, while praising God. Everyone liked them, and each day the Lord added to their group others who were being saved. (Acts 2:43-47, CEV).

One day, Peter and John, in the name of Jesus Christ, had healed a lame beggar in the temple. As a result, a huge crowd gathered to hear Peter speak about Christ. So much of Jerusalem was astir over the miracle that local religious leaders, concerned about their position of power, “arrested Peter and John and put them in jail for the night. But a lot of people who had heard the message believed it. So by now there were about five thousand followers of the Lord” (Acts 4:3, 4, CEV). Five thousand people,[26] rejoicing as they learned about God’s love, were “happily and freely” sharing with other believers.

Because the believers shared their wealth with one another, Acts records, “No one went in need of anything. Everyone who owned land or houses would sell them and bring the money to the apostles. Then they would give the money to anyone who needed it” (Acts 4:34, 35, CEV).

A married couple named Ananias and Sapphira sold a piece of land and said that they would donate all of the sale’s proceeds to the church. However, Ananias, with his wife’s full knowledge, kept some of the money. When Ananias brought his donation to the apostles, Peter asked him why he had lied to God. The Book of Acts reads: “As soon as Ananias heard this, he dropped dead, and everyone who heard about it was frightened” (Acts 5:5, CEV). Sapphira arrived at the church about three hours later. Being completely unaware of her husband’s death, Peter asked Sapphira if she’d sold the land for the amount of money that Ananias had brought to the church leaders. When she said that she had, Peter asked, “Why did the two of you agree to test the Lord’s Spirit? The men who buried Ananias are by the door, and they will carry you out” (Acts 5:9, CEV). The author of Acts reports, “At once she fell at Peter’s feet and died” (Acts 5:10, CEV). These events caused a major shake-up in the church (Acts 5:11). Ananias and Sapphira’s deaths had left people quaking.

Some have speculated that Peter’s confrontations had left Ananias and Sapphira shaking inside as well—so much so that they died from abject fear or a stroke. Whatever the cause, the fact that Peter predicted Sapphira’s death is highly significant (Acts 5:9). How could Peter know that she would die? God knew that Peter’s confrontations with Ananias and Sapphira would result in their deaths. Because God let the confrontations take place, is he not ultimately responsible? Whether God actively stopped life from flowing through their veins or they died of natural causes, the question remains, “Why would God let Ananias and Sapphira die because they lied?”

The question is troubling on many counts. People lie today, and they don’t die, even when publicly confronted about their deceptions. Furthermore, we’re told that “God is love” and that “there is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear

…” (1 John 4:8, 16, 18, NASB). Yet God, intimately involved in the affairs of the infant Christian church, allowed an incident to take place that caused great fear: “The church members were afraid, and so was everyone else who heard what had happened” (Acts 5:11, CEV). Why would God allow this?

The Bible doesn’t spell out the reasons for their deaths. We can only speculate as to why God, as a loving Father, allowed them to die. Just as we protect our infants, God longed to protect his newborn church. This discussion will explore some of the ways in which this event may have protected and helped the early Christian church, which had been born to be a light of love and truth in a very dark world.

Dishonest people are always a liability to an organization that stands for truth. We’re not told why Ananias and Sapphira joined the early Christian church. Perhaps miracles caught their attention and they wanted to be where the action was. In any case, we know that it wasn’t a love of integrity that kept them there. Ananias and Sapphira said that they wanted to do something that they actually did not want to do. They attempted to lie not only to God’s people but also to God.

The deaths of Ananias and Sapphira called attention to God’s concern about the spiritual condition of his children. No one in the church doubted, after this shaking event, that God reads the hearts of men. No one doubted that the movement was born of God. Most significantly, no one doubted that God considers the integrity of character to be his glory. Ananias and Sapphira did not long for the glory of God’s character to be their own. Instead, pretending to be honest, self-sacrificing people, they decided to deceive the church for the purpose of self-exaltation.

Many people may have considered joining the early Christian church with the same goal in mind. They could be “big fish in a small pond,” and this was a pond that was fast becoming a potential “watering hole” for those seeking attention and social position. (See the story of Simon the Sorcerer in Acts 8 as an example.) Had such people joined the church, it could have been seriously injured by their influence and actions. The early Christian church was under the constant surveillance of honest skeptics, as well as self-serving power groups who felt threatened by its existence. If the dishonesty of church members had branched into relationships with non-believers, Christianity’s antagonists could have easily declared the church to be bogus, and devastating consequences could have ensued. The question could rightfully have been asked, “If God is so righteous and so powerful, why doesn’t he keep his church pure? In allowing the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira, God may have done just that. Unethical people were warned in no uncertain terms that they “need not apply.”

Just as their deaths may have prevented insincere “converts” from joining the church, it may have also caused honest skeptics to reconsider their stance. Skeptics, who often attribute miracles to psychological phenomena or sleight-of-hand magic performed for financial gain, may have sat up and taken notice. The early church was a movement that, in spite of a significant financial gift, had voluntarily taken a strong stance against Ananias’ and Sapphira’s lies. In so doing, the church had cut itself off from any future financial contributions from them. Money, it was clear, was not the concern. Honesty was. In the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira, God distinguished his church from the money-loving charlatans of the day, and in so doing, may have drawn honest skeptics to himself.

As well as affecting nonbelievers, the hypocrisy of Ananias and Sapphira could have led believers to look suspiciously at each other. The church was extremely young and may not have been able to weather such a storm. God needed the church to grow so that it could shine light into distant lands. The prevention of serious disillusionment within the church may have been another reason that God stopped their hypocrisy in its tracks.

Along with the peril of disillusionment lies the danger of contagion. Richard Strauss aptly describes the threat:

Phony spirituality is contagious. It spreads. When one Christian sees another Christian getting away with it, he finds it easier to try it himself. And for every member who operates in the power of the flesh rather than the Spirit, for every one who lives for the praise of men rather than for the glory of God, the effectiveness of Christ’s church is reduced so much the more. Had God permitted Ananias and Sapphira to continue their charade, it would have destroyed the witness of the early church. He had to act decisively.

We cringe at this extreme illustration of divine discipline. We may even be tempted to accuse God of overreacting with undue harshness. Why did he do it? He does not seem to act that way now. And we can surely be grateful for that! But those days were different. They were the formative days of the church. Up until that time there had been no such crass exhibition of “fleshliness”, and God loathed the day it would permeate the church. From the very outset, he wanted it known how strongly he feels about hypocrisy, and he wanted it known for all time. That is why he put this account into his Word.[27]

Ananias and Sapphira were not unacquainted with God’s values. Throughout the Old Testament, God had said much about how repulsive he found deception and hypocrisy to be. Jesus Christ had expressed identical sentiments in his teachings. Ananias and Sapphira knew how Christ had lived in poverty, never grasping wealth in order to exalt Himself. Yet they chose to cherish values diametrically opposed to God’s.

The choices that Ananias and Sapphira made, in spite of the light that they had, also speak to the reader about the insanity of sin. Peter mentions that Ananias and Sapphira “tested” God. What was it that they wanted to test? After having witnessed signs and wonders in abundance and having learned from Scripture, did they want to see if God could really read hearts? Did they think they could outwit God by deceiving him? Every second of the day, God’s Spirit pled with Ananias and Sapphira to change their course of action; yet they refused to listen to the voice of God and, instead, set out to deceive. Describing evil men, Solomon says, “Furthermore, the hearts of the sons of men are full of evil and insanity is in their hearts throughout their lives” (Ecclesiastes 9:3, NASB). Ananias and Sapphira had refused God’s invitations to reason together (Isaiah 1:18). In defiance of everything good and reasonable, they made a deliberate plan and methodically carried it out. God’s heart undoubtedly wept over Ananias and Sapphira, just as he had over rebellious Israel, crying “How can I give you up?… How can I surrender you? My heart is turned over inside of Me, and all My compassions are kindled” (Hosea 11:8, NASB). Yet because of their decision, there was nothing more that God could do. Unable to help Ananias and Sapphira, God turned to protect his church by allowing their demise.

Directly after Ananias and Sapphira met their fate, no one outside of the church dared to join the Christians as they met in the temple. However, in time, fear gradually subsided. God continued to work miracles and wonders through the apostles. More and more people believed in the Lord, and the church began to grow once again (Acts 5:12-14). Even though God knew that his children would be afraid for a while, like a wise parent, he was willing to be temporarily misunderstood for the ultimate good of his family.

Ananias and Sapphira’s deaths undoubtedly turned back a tide of evil, both in the early Christian church and throughout history. God’s warnings against pretentious piety, greed, and deception are as relevant to Christians today as they were to the early church. God always teaches, leads, warns, and protects his children as gently as possible; so it’s unusual for him to allow drastic events to take place. When God lets the consequence of death fall, it shocks us. Yet God’s heart is as rich in tender love when he has to raise his voice as it is when he speaks softly. Therefore, when we read the story of Ananias and Sapphira, we need to remind ourselves that God is love; and love’s ultimate desire is to turn fear out of doors and expel every trace of terror (1 John 4:18, AMP).

[1].  Scripture quotations in this chapter are taken from the New International Version (NIV), unless otherwise indicated. Following is a list of abbreviations used for various translations: Goodspeed—An American Translation, New Testament completed by Goodspeed; AMP—Amplified Bible; CEV—Contemporary English Version; GNB—Good News Translation; GW—GOD’S WORD Translation; NASB—New American Standard Bible; NKJV—New King James Version; NIRV—New International Readers Version; CJB—Complete Jewish Bible; WEB—World English Bible.

[2].   “Sacrifice of reconciliation” is sometimes translated “sacrifice of atonement” [“at-one-ment”], “propitiation,” [“propitiate”—“to make peace with”], or “expiation” [“expiate”—“to atone/at-one”]. The Greek word that is translated “sacrifice of atonement” is hilasterion, which means “a place or means of reconciliation.” The word hilasterion was first used by Jewish scholars living at the time of the Babylonian Exile who translated the Old Testament from Hebrew into Greek. Instead of using the Hebrew word Kapporeth (which means “cover” or “lid”) for the cover of the Ark of the Covenant, they used the word hilasterion in recognition of what symbolically took place there on the Day of Atonement. Luther recognized the same, calling the cover of the ark a “mercy seat.” In his translation of Romans, Luther uses the phrase mercy seat to translate “hilasterion.”

[3].  Of note here is that “righteousness” may be a more accurate translation than “justice.” In his book, Justification, N. T. Wright’s comments on the New International Version’s choice of the word justice by saying that “the righteousness of God” in verse 21 is “the equivalent term used in Romans 3:25 and Romans 3:26,” which “clearly refers to God’s own righteousness” (p. 52). Wright states: “In particular, it is supported by the emphatic conclusion of 3:25-26 which can only mean that God is revealing his own ‘righteousness.’ Paul says it three times: ‘to show his righteousness’ (Romans 3:25) ‘to prove…that he himself is righteous’ (Romans 3:26), ‘so that he might himself be dikaios, in the right’ (Romans 3:26).” “Translations such as the NIV…have simply gone along for the ride, fudging the evidence by translating dikaiosynē in verses 25 and 26 as “justice,” not noticing what a mess they are thereby making of the inner coherence of the paragraph” (p. 202).

[4].  The context of Scripture reveals that the command You shall not kill refers to malicious murder (see Exodus 21:12-14; Numbers 35:9-28). The death penalty is not prohibited (Exodus 21:15-17). National defense and self-defense are allowed (Deuteronomy 20:10-18; Exodus 22:2,3). At times, the most merciful thing that can be done is to allow life to be ended, especially when individuals or societies are completely given over to cruelty. In the Bible, we read of people infatuated with the insanity of evil who were destroyed, not only in mercy to the world but in mercy to themselves. The grief that God experiences when such emergency measures are necessary is heart-wrenching. We read in chapters such as Hosea 11; Isaiah 15, 16, 21, 22, 43, 46, 49; Jeremiah 9 and 48 of God’s heart rupturing with emotional pain over the loss of his children. The God of the Old Testament is patience and compassion personified. Vengeful anger has no place in his heart. The depth of God’s love is what prompts him to raise his voice, often in fierce warnings so as to be heard, as he attempts to save his children. Likewise, it is unfathomable love that allows the destruction of evil when he sees that destruction is essential.

[5].  Many have read God’s statement as a threat, much like one that says, “If I catch you eating cookies out of the cookie jar, I’ll kill you.” Unreasonable, false premises are dangerous, in that they lead to illogical, incorrect conclusions. Any parents making irrational “cookie jar threats” such as this to their children would be considered abusive, dangerous people–definitely “lock-up material.” Should God be reduced to the same? God’s statement is a warning about the inevitable, natural consequence of distrusting him—it is a loving warning, not a threat. Eating the fruit was simply a manifestation of the distrust that Adam and Eve had unreasonably and rashly embraced.

[6].  Likewise, if God had let Satan undergo the natural result of sin at the start of his rebellion, the universe would have thought that God had executed him, and fear would have been the impetus for obedience. Force and coercion prompted by fear are repulsive to God. Only the love of what is right brings joy to his heart. Therefore, God saw it best to let his adversary live on and reveal his true character. God knew that, especially through Christ’s life and death, he could contrast Satan’s selfish nature with his vast self-giving love and win the undying trust of the universe.

[7].  See footnote 3 for N. T. Wright’s comments on the New International Version’s choice of the word justice used in Romans 3:25.

[8].  See this chapter’s section on Hebrews 9:22 for a discussion about substitutionary execution.

[9].  If a person did not have enough money to bring an animal, fine flour could be brought as a sacrifice instead (Leviticus 5:11). This fact is another indication that God does not need blood in order to forgive.

[10].  The character and purposes of God and Christ are identical. Christ said, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father”—“I and the Father are one” (John 14:9; John 10:30, respectively). If someone had to die in order for God to forgive, then someone would have had to die in order for Christ to forgive—which is not the case.

[11].  Likewise, we have the joy of presenting ourselves as a living sacrifice to God: “I exhort you, therefore, brothers, in view of God’s mercies, to offer yourselves as a sacrifice, living and set apart for God. This will please him; it is the logical ‘Temple worship’ for you” (Romans 12:1, CJB).

[12].  Misconceptions regarding what God wants were not limited to the Old Testament era. Christ quotes Hosea 6:6 twice to religious leaders of the day, saying that they did not know the meaning of the verse (Matthew 9:13 and Matthew 12:7).

[13].  God, speaking in Jeremiah 7:21-23, mirrors this sentiment: “Add your burnt offerings to your sacrifices and eat meat. For I did not speak to your fathers, or command them in the day that I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning burnt offerings or sacrifices. But this is what I commanded them, saying, ‘Obey My voice, and I will be your God, and you shall be My people. And walk in all the ways that I have commanded you, that it may be well with you’” (NKJV). Blood sacrifice was not what God had aspired to—unfortunately, the ceremonial law needed to be added because of transgression (Galatians 3:19). Likewise, the sanctuary service will not be the focus of God and his children in the future. In Jeremiah 3:16 God says, “‘Then it shall come to pass, when you are multiplied and increased in the land in those days,’ says the LORD, ‘that they will say no more, “The ark of the covenant of the LORD.” It shall not come to mind, nor shall they remember it, nor shall they visit it, nor shall it be made anymore’” (NKJV). God’s law will be written in our heart. No need will remain to reference the law that was written in stone and kept in the Ark of the Covenant.

[14].  God, speaking in Jeremiah 22:16, expounds upon what it means to know him. Speaking to King Josiah’s son about his father, God says, “‘He defended the cause of the poor and needy, and so all went well. Is that not what it means to know me?’ declares the LORD.”

[15].  Significant to note is that the concept of healing is reflected in the word salvation—the root being “salv,” as in the healing ointment that we call “salve.” The word for “heal” and “save” in New Testament Greek is the same—sozo—which, depending upon the context, is sometimes translated “save” and at other times translated “heal.”

[16].  Important to note is that those who have never heard of Scripture can be saved. Romans 2 is very clear on this, stating that when those “who do not have the Law do instinctively the things of the Law…they show the work of the Law written in their hearts” (Romans 2:14, 15, NASB). Such people are considered to be “just before God” (Romans 2:13, NASB). As 1 Timothy 4:10 says, “We have fixed our hope on the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of believers” (NASB).

[17].   Manfred Brauch, et al. Hard Sayings of the Bible (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1996), 561, 562.

[18].  Paul’s writings can be difficult because he sometimes takes “exits off the freeway” when expounding upon a subject. This is because his letters are often written in a conversational style. In conversations with friends, we move around and double back, as well as interject semirelated thoughts that flash through our minds. Romans 9 reflects this conversational style.

[19].  Those who trust in God’s promise, “I will put my laws in their hearts, and I will write them on their minds” are born from above as a result of God’s promise—they are the ones he has chosen to be “children of the living God” (Hebrews 10:16; John 3:3; Galatians 4:22-28; Romans 4:13, 16, 17; 9:26).

[20].  God had also promised Abraham that “all peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (Genesis 12:3). When Abraham asked if Ishmael (who had already been born to Abraham by Hagar), might fulfill this promise, God’s response was, “No! You and Sarah will have a son. His name will be Isaac, and I will make an everlasting promise to him and his descendants” (Genesis 17:19, CEV). God’s decision as to whom his promise would apply was not based upon being a physical descendant of Abraham—otherwise, Ishmael and his descendants would have also been repositories of light to the nations. Isaac had not yet been born when the promise was made, so the decision was not based upon one brother having lived a better life than the other. In Hard Sayings of the Bible, Manfred T. Brauch comments: “It does not help to argue that God knew what sort of people they would become, for that would be to deny what Paul is arguing. He is arguing that God simply chose” (562).

God’s promise to Abraham concerning Isaac and his physical descendants dealt with which descendants of Abraham would serve a special purpose. God’s promise did not guarantee salvation to Isaac and his natural offspring, nor did it deny salvation to Ishmael and his descendants. Instead, God’s promise foretold which line of Abraham’s descendants was to serve as a nation of priests to the world (Exodus 19:6).

[21].  Romans 9:13 closes out the chapter’s reference to Jacob and Esau, saying, “Just as it is written: ‘Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.’” Manfred T. Brauch, in Hard Sayings of the Bible, explains, “The strong expression, ‘Esau I hated’ must be seen as a typical example of Eastern hyperbole, which expresses things in terms of extremes. Further, in the Hebrew language ‘to love’ often means ‘to favor,’ and ‘to hate’ can mean ‘to favor or to love less’” (560). God did not love Jacob more than Esau. Jacob and his descendants, however, did receive God’s favor in the sense that they were to be the recipients of truth for the nations until Christ came. God gave them this special purpose, but that did not make them his favorites. In God’s heart, every person is of infinite value.

[22].  Brauch, 560.

[23].  Brauch, 562, emphasis supplied.

[24].  In Romans 11, Paul goes into more detail about God’s plan to work through Israel’s rejection of truth.

[25].  Very possibly, Paul is drawing the potter analogy from Jeremiah 18, which has exactly the opposite meaning as many interpret Romans 9. Greg Boyd comments that “the point of the potter-clay analogy is not God’s unilateral control, but God’s willingness and right to change his plans in response to changed hearts…. The sovereign potter remains flexible. If the Jews abandon their unbelief—clearly God’s hardening is not determinative or irrevocable–the potter will once again refashion his plans. Conversely, if the Gentiles abandon their belief and become prideful—clearly God’s mercy is not determinative or irrevocable—the potter will once again refashion his plan for them…” Greg Boyd, Is God to Blame? (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003),173,174.

[26].  On the TV program Searching for Answers, Dr. John Jones, professor of religion at La Sierra University, relayed that the number five thousand almost certainly refers only to men. Along with those “five thousand” men were many wives and children. Dr. Jones went on to say that at that time in history, Jerusalem is estimated to have had a baseline population of about thirty thousand people. During Pentecost, however, the population swelled to well over one million people because Jews flooded into Jerusalem for the Feast of Pentecost. “If you’ve got five thousand men,” John Jones pointed out, “we may be looking at one out of six or eight people.... If the numbers really cook out right, this is an astonishing explosion, isn’t it?”

[27].  Taken from Pastor Richard Strauss’ sermon, entitled, “Be Honest—The Story of Ananias and Sapphira.” See <http://www.bible.org/page.php?page_id=1299> for a transcript of the sermon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A Second Look at the Second Coming

DOROTHEE COLE

“Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.”

—Acts 1:11, TNIV.

THE EARLY CHRISTIAN CHURCH, once used to suffering, passed a significant turning point in the year A.D. 312 when the Roman Emperor Constantine the Great reported seeing a vision[1] that led him first to legalize and then to mandate Christianity throughout the Roman Empire. Constantine believed that he had won a crucial battle with the help of the Christian God. The persecuted and despised church now became the ruling political and economic power on earth by adopting Constantine’s imperial policy and ideology and eventually losing all resemblance to its originally pure and humble beginnings. The church slowly looked less and less like Christ. Jesus’ promise that his followers would be persecuted as he was persecuted was now turned on its head, and the church became the vehicle of persecution and the authority that determined who was to be “saved” and who would be damned. Rather than focusing on living out the self-sacrificial life of Jesus, the church deemphasized “looking like Christ” and even justified a militant approach in the name of “salvation,” at times condoning torture if this act could somehow ensure getting the tortured into heaven.

We cannot overemphasize the change in focus that the post-Constantinian church brought to our understanding of the Second Coming. Even today, the Christian church at large tends to consider its primary function in the world to be a sort of “saving station”[2] focused on providing the necessary knowledge and means that make us eligible for a future heavenly world (often at the expense of transforming the world we live in) and preparing us to meet the Lord at his coming.

Jesus’ Emphasis

The emphasis the church has placed on “saving people” and getting them ready to face Christ at his return begs such questions as, “Is this the proper emphasis of the Christian church?” and “How should we prepare for this climactic experience of coming face to face with God?” We may be surprised to discover that in his important last-minute instructions to his disciples, Jesus didn’t fill in the details about his Second Coming. Although the four Gospel writers record Jesus’ final words prior to his ascension, none of them even mention him coming again.[3] Instead of instructing his disciples to wait for his return, he focused on an entirely different mission.

Matthew records the assignment Jesus asked his followers to complete during his absence: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19, 20, ESV). Jesus’ primary concern here is about earthly realities and that all people on earth are taught to live out his Kingdom and follow his teachings. Mark also stressed the importance of going “into all the world and proclaim the Good News to the whole creation” (Mark 16:15, NRSV). Luke calls attention to Jesus’ call for “repentance and forgiveness of sins to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning in Jerusalem” (Luke 24:45-49, GNB). And John tells us that Jesus charged Peter to “feed [his] sheep” (John 21:17, ESV).

In essence, rather than pointing toward a kingdom in the clouds, Jesus seems to be saying to his disciples, “Focus on transforming this earth and bring my Kingdom down here…and make sure to show it to the whole world!” The book of Hebrews expands on this point. Instead of concentrating on the future heavenly city, recognize that you are members of God’s Kingdom here and now—that the heavenly Jerusalem is present all around you (Hebrews 12:22). In fact, Jesus tells his disciples rather explicitly not to look for the Kingdom of God in the sky but to discover it right within our midst (Luke 17:21). And he spent most of his time trying to demonstrate his present-day Kingdom to his listeners. In the Gospels alone, the expression “the kingdom of God” is used seventy-four times and the expression “kingdom of heaven” thirty-four times,[4] emphasizing its quality rather than its physical location in time and space. This does not negate the presence of a “heavenly realm” but suggests that we should not be overly consumed with a future Kingdom that is in some other location. We are given the task to rebuild the Kingdom of God on this earth, here and now. Jesus instructed his disciples to “cure the sick…and say to them, ‘The Kingdom of God has come near to you’” (Luke 10:9, GNB). The famous words from the Lord’s Prayer, “Your Kingdom come,” were in the context of God’s will being done on earth (i.e., God’s Kingdom coming to earth) as it is in heaven (Matthew 6:10).

Genesis describes in painful detail how the Kingdom that had been lost in Eden was subsequently replaced by the self-centered and enslaving rule of God’s enemy, engulfing our world in chaos and destruction. After Jesus’ ascension, however, the Bible describes a brief period of time when God’s Kingdom began to take root (Acts 2:43-47)—a beautiful society where Christ’s way of other-centered, selfless love was lived out. This goal of an almost utopian community is not to be taken lightly and is a model for the current-day church, as well. The purpose of the church today is to be active in the world wherever there is need and to suffer when necessary for the good of others. Anything that draws our time and focus away from reflecting Jesus in the here and now—be it a preoccupation with the Second Coming or an excessive focus on doctrines, Bible prophecy, and our own salvation—can become counterproductive to the Kingdom when reaching out to the suffering world around us has taken on secondary importance.

To Know or Not to Know

The danger of placing our focus on a future time when God’s Kingdom will gain the upper hand and when God will “save the elect and kill the wicked” was well demonstrated by a certain group of people who lived over 2,000 years ago in Palestine. Like us, the Pharisees were waiting for the coming of their Messiah. They were waiting for a powerful leader to defeat the Romans and to establish God’s (and their) reign on earth. They believed that they had “the truth,” called God by the “right name,” celebrated the “right festivals,” ate the “right diet,” and were compulsively exact with their tithes and offerings (Matthew 23:23). They also thought it was their mission to share God’s truth with the world (Matthew 23:15); yet when the Messiah came and lived among them for thirty years, they didn’t recognize him. While God’s people were looking for a king of glory and power, the humble Carpenter went about his daily work. While they were looking for a savior to liberate them from the oppression of the Roman Empire, the Healer walked among them and took care of their sick. And while they read about the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in their Scriptures, they despised the words of the great I AM who had existed long before any of their prophets (John 8:58; Exodus 3:14).[5] In their national pride, they failed to understand the words, “Happy are those who are humble” (Matthew 5:5, GNB). While they were waiting for the savior of their nation, they scoffed at the Savior of the world as he died on the Cross. They even intended to break the legs of Jesus so they could hurry home for Sabbath, not realizing that they had just crucified the Creator of the Sabbath.[6]

Not so unlike many of us, the religious leaders during Jesus’ time were trying to gain God’s approval by doing all the right things, by being members of the “right” religion, and by having the “right set” of doctrinal beliefs (Romans 10:1-3). But they failed to recognize that God in human form was living among them for thirty-three years and that he was the one knocking, trying to enter through the door of their hearts. God was with us—Immanuel; yet almost no one saw it, no one understood, and no one anticipated that the first coming would look like this. Even John the Baptist doubted for a time and instructed his followers to ask a rather sad question: “Are you the one John said was going to come, or should we expect someone else?” (Matthew 11:3, GNB). God “came to what was his own. But his own people did not accept him” (John 1:11, NIRV). John’s statement is truly one of the saddest verses in the entire Bible.

So what can we learn today from the events that transpired over two millennia ago? The religious people of that time could not accept Jesus because they literally did not know him intimately beforehand. That was the essence of their downfall. The picture of God that Jesus revealed to them did not fit with the picture of the God they wanted to believe in. Their picture of God had similarities to the pagan gods who required sacrifices in order to be appeased. To these individuals, Jesus gave a riddle: “Go and find out what is meant by the scripture that says: ‘It is kindness that I want, not animal sacrifices.’ I have not come to call respectable people, but outcasts” (Matthew 9:13, GNB). Jesus was quoting from Hosea, revealing the essence of their failure to recognize him as Messiah: “I want your constant love, not your animal sacrifices. I would rather have my people know me than burn offerings to me” (Hosea 6:6, GNB, emphasis supplied). Giving sacrifices to God, calling him by the right name, and even waiting eagerly for his coming—none of this matters unless we know God in the biblical sense, which means to love and trust him based on a knowledge and appreciation of his character.

The Pharisees’ rejection of Jesus is an important lesson for us today, and these words of Isaiah apply to our time just as accurately as it did to theirs:

When you come before me,

who ever gave you the idea of acting like this,

Running here and there, doing this and that—

all this sheer commotion in the place provided for worship?

Quit your worship charades.

I can’t stand your trivial religious games:

Monthly conferences, weekly Sabbaths, special meetings—

meetings, meetings, meetings—I can’t stand one more!

Meetings for this, meetings for that. I hate them!

You’ve worn me out!

I’m sick of your religion, religion, religion,

while you go right on sinning.

When you put on your next prayer-performance,

I’ll be looking the other way.

No matter how long or loud or often you pray,

I’ll not be listening. And do you know why? Because you’ve been tearing

people to pieces, and your hands are bloody.

Go home and wash up.

Clean up your act.

Sweep your lives clean of your evildoings

so I don’t have to look at them any longer.

Say no to wrong.

Learn to do good.

Work for justice.

Help the down-and-out.

Stand up for the homeless.

Go to bat for the defenseless. (Isaiah 1:12-17, MSG).

Religious experts eagerly anticipated the first coming, yet the event went unnoticed because they did not know what the real God was like. They thought that God despised sinners and cursed them with disease and poverty, so they assumed that God had given them license to regard their less-fortunate fellowmen and women with contempt as well. They loathed foreigners such as Samaritans and judged them unworthy of salvation. As a result, they weren’t willing to accept a Messiah who demonstrated kindness toward foreigners, women, lepers, the poor, and the sick; they couldn’t appreciate the words of Jesus when he said, “I came, not to judge the world, but to save it” (John 12:47, GNB). The God revealed in Jesus was the complete opposite of the god they believed in and preached; above all, they couldn’t imagine that the all-powerful and sovereign God would descend to become a human—much less wash the feet of his betrayer or allow his enemies to inflict pain and suffering to the point of death.

On the day prior to his crucifixion, Jesus made the remarkable statement, “And eternal life means to know you, the only true God” (John 17:3, GNB). According to Jesus, eternal life does not primarily mean “living forever” but to know the only true God. The absence of this knowing relationship with God was the downfall of first-century Jews; and it could be the downfall of twenty-first-century Christians as well, unless we learn from their experience and turn our primary focus to internalizing and then revealing the truth about God’s character.

A Kingdom Not of This World

The Pharisees were waiting for a physical kingdom where they would have the “upper hand”—because they understood their God to be one who assumes “the upper hand,” not realizing that the true God is one who serves. They were looking for a God of force and coercion rather than a God who gently persuades by revealing the truth, leaving us free to choose. So we must ask ourselves, what we are waiting for today? Are we waiting for Christians to rule the earth? Are we hoping to transform the political institutions of this country into Christian institutions? Are we working to set up “Christian standards” throughout the world? We have to keep in mind that Jesus repeatedly told us that “[His] kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36) and that it doesn’t operate according to this world’s principles of force, coercion, and compulsion. When God’s Kingdom is on display, it will be characterized by service and humility.

But Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers in this world lord it over their people, and officials flaunt their authority over those under them. But among you it will be different. Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first among you must become your slave. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve others and to give His life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:25-28, NLT).

God’s Kingdom is entirely different! His Kingdom germinates in our hearts and, when brought to full maturity, looks exactly like Jesus Christ himself.

Once the Pharisees asked Jesus when God’s kingdom would come. He replied, “The coming of God’s kingdom is not something you can see just by watching for it carefully. People will not say, ‘Here it is.’ Or, ‘There it is.’ God’s kingdom is among you.” (Luke 17:20, 21, NIRV, emphasis supplied).[7]

Jesus gives it to us straight: God’s Kingdom is not something that can be calculated or determined. Not characterized by compulsion or coercion, it is completely opposite from any kind of earthly kingdom or country or government. God’s Kingdom is characterized by people who have been freed to exhibit the same characteristics as Jesus Christ—a present-day Kingdom among us and within us. In other words, the Kingdom we should be looking for and working toward, the Kingdom Jesus taught us to pray for in the Lord’s Prayer, when he said, “Your Kingdom come,” the Kingdom Jesus talked about when he said in the Sermon on the Mount, “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you,” (Matthew 6:33, NIV)—this Kingdom is to live within us, in our midst. Unlike the post-Constantinian era that attempted to force people in, God’s Kingdom is composed of individuals who have freely turned to God, without fear or coercion. It’s a Kingdom where the King of the universe lives within people and within the community of believers. This Kingdom looks, tastes, feels, and sounds like Jesus and is revealed through kindness, humility, service, and love.

We will become impervious to God’s Kingdom today if we reject the truth that God is just like Jesus in character. If we reject Jesus’ essential teachings of humility, service, and love for enemies, we cannot be a part of God’s expanding Kingdom on earth. We will either become idle, waiting for a false picture of God to appear in the sky; or we will become manipulative or coercive in our evangelism of others, taking on the very characteristics of God’s enemy.

There will be a physical appearing of Christ, no doubt. But only those who have already experienced his coming into their hearts will be prepared for his physical coming. The physical appearing of God is not the most important event in human history. The event that supersedes all others, the one that counts the most, is the spiritual coming of God into his people.

The apostle John tells us that “when he is revealed, we will be like him,” because we will “see him as he is” (1 John 3:2). Recognizing the truth about God’s character—that he is kind, gentle, forgiving, and even humble (as Jesus was)—and entering into a love relationship with him are the necessary first steps in the building of a community that reflects Christ’s character (Ephesians 1:3, 4; 2:10; 4:13; 1 Corinthians 2:16). A community that reflects Christ is God’s Kingdom on earth.

The Rider on the White Horse

My sons Caleb and James were 8 and 6 years old when they were discussing the different kinds of weapons and came to the conclusion that guns and bombs were from Satan but that swords and slingshots were from God. Their childlike understanding illustrates a point. The apostle John tells us that the rider on the white horse (who symbolizes Jesus) will descend from heaven, and “from his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations” (Revelation 19:15, NRSV). Most of us would intuitively recoil at the suggestion that Jesus might descend from heaven and finish off his enemies with a heavenly machine gun, yet many contemporary Christians have no qualms about accepting a God who kills his enemies with a sword. Revelation is full of symbols; and the sword that John alludes to is the same sword that Paul mentions when he says, “And accept…the Word of God as the sword which the Spirit gives you” (Ephesians 6:17, GNB). The rider on the horse wears clothes that are dipped in blood (an allusion to the Cross) and “His name is ‘the Word of God’” (Revelation 19:13, GNB).

This passage directs our attention to several important aspects of the Second Coming. First, since Jesus is “the Lamb that was slain,” the blood on the rider’s clothes is likely his own. Popular images of the Second Coming depict that God is coming to slaughter the wicked; but in this verse the one who returns is portrayed as the one who has been slaughtered, the victim of our abuse. Also, three times this passage refers to the “name” of the one who returns. In the Bible, the name of a person denotes character. For example, Jesus prayed, “I have revealed your name to the people you gave me” (John 17:6, GNB). Jesus revealed God’s character. In Revelation, we see that both the name (the character) and the weapon (the sword) of the rider who comes from heaven is “the Word of God.” Who is the Word of God? The apostle John explains: “The Word became a human being and, full of grace and truth, lived among us” (John 1:14, GNB). The Word of God, the Sword, is none other than the witness of Jesus’ life and death, which provided the true and perfect revelation of God himself. This passage may, in symbolic terms, describe how the truth about God, as revealed by Jesus, will defeat the lies and misrepresentations that we harbor in our minds.[8]

So what are we Christians expecting the Second Coming to look like? Are we waiting for a God who will come with a great physical display of power and bright lights and who will thrust his destructive weapon at the enemy and save his people? Or are we waiting for the Deliverer whose “garments are dipped in blood”? The Cross demonstrated the lengths to which God was willing to go in order to prove that he is trustworthy and that he uses persuasion by truth instead of brute force. Jesus’ life and death persuasively demonstrate that God values our freedom above all else and that it is contrary to his character to compel us to obey.

Christ in Us

We’ve read of God’s physical power at the time of Creation when he spoke the world into existence. We’ve read of Immanuel—God with us—when humanity witnessed the kind of person God is as a human being, living out his everlasting principles of goodness right in front of our eyes. Are we now ready for the ultimate miracle God is trying to accomplish, the crucial event in human history that will forever defeat the power of the enemy over our minds and hearts, enslaving us to his rule? That event is not God with us (according to Matthew 28:20 Jesus has been with us for the past 2,000 years); it is not God coming from the sky to earth; but it is this: God Almighty in us; God enthroned in his temple—the hearts and minds of his people (Ephesians 1:22, 23); Jesus’ body symbolically reconstructed by his church (Ephesians 2:21), made up of those who know and love what he’s like in character, allowing God’s Spirit to work in their transformation. With great hope we anticipate that there will be a people who will reflect the self-sacrificial character of Jesus in their lives and who “didn’t love their life so much that they refused to give it up” (Revelation 12:11, GW).[9]

The physical coming of Jesus must be preceded by his spiritual coming. We actively promote this spiritual coming of Jesus into his temple (the hearts and minds of his people) when we internalize that the Almighty is just like Jesus in character and entirely worthy of our trust.

I heard a loud voice from the throne say, “God lives with humans! God will make his home with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There won’t be any more death. There won’t be any grief, crying, or pain, because the first things have disappeared.” (Revelation 21:3, 4, GW).

[1].  The story of Constantine’s disputed conversion to Christianity centers on the Battle of the Milvian Bridge in A.D. 312, when he reported seeing a vision of Christ and a sign with the words, “Hoc signo victor eris,” meaning, “By this sign you will be victor.” He ordered a Christian symbol (the monogram Chi-Rho, formed from the first two Greek letters of the word Christ) to be placed on the shields of his soldiers and won the battle. After that, he made Christianity legal throughout his empire, and Christians slowly found themselves a favored group within the empire—gaining tax concessions and career advantages. He provided for the construction of Roman basilicas as churches. Christianity was legalized and later became the mandatory religion within the Roman Empire. (See <http://www.historyworld.net/wrldhis/PlainTextHistories.asp?historyid=ac60#ixzz0l4pgIm8s> and <http://www.roman-emperors.org/conniei.htm>.)

[2].  This term was originally coined by Richard Rohr, a Franciscan friar ordained to the priesthood in the Roman Catholic Church and an internationally known thinker and inspirational speaker.

[3].  After his ascension, the angels did reassure the disciples that Jesus would return (Acts 1:11).

[4].  Numbers taken from E-Sword.

[5].  Jesus referred to himself as the I AM—the name that God used for himself when conversing with Moses at the burning bush (see Exodus 3:14).

[6].  John 1:3 tells us that all things came into being through Christ.

[7].  The NIV translates the end of Luke 17:21 as, “The kingdom of God is within you,” and the NASB translates it as, “For behold, the kingdom of God is in your midst.”

[8].  Unfortunately this passage also tells us that some will actively resist God’s revelation of love and truth (Revelation 19:19).

[9].  This is not to advocate some kind of perfectionism prior to the physical appearing of Christ but rather a “looking like Jesus” community, much like the early Christian church. And after all, what does it mean to be perfect? According to Jesus, perfection is to grow up and to be like our Heavenly Father in the way that he loves his enemies (see Matthew 5:43-48).

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Good News in the Judgment

LOREN SMITH

EVERY BIBLICAL CONCEPT IS BEST UNDERSTOOD in the light of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. Jesus said of himself: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me” (John 14:6, NASB). In other words, without the example and words of Jesus, we are blind to the character and purposes of God. No one comes to the Father; no one can come to understand who the Father is, without first understanding who Jesus is. Only when we view God through the Person of Jesus Christ are we able truly to understand what the Judgment is all about. In the life of Jesus, we see the glory of God. This glory is God’s character, revealed in its clearest form.

Often, we think of God’s glory in terms of what our senses would tell us. We imagine bright lights, thundering clouds, and bolts of lightning. Now, that’s great stuff, and the Bible definitely portrays God that way at certain times. Yet when Moses asked God to show him his glory (Exodus 33:18), God didn’t reply: “Haven’t you been paying attention? Didn’t you see the lights and hear the thunder?” God knew what Moses was after. Moses wanted to know what was behind all the special effects—he wanted to see God’s real glory. He was not satisfied with sound and lights—he wanted to know something about God’s heart. God’s answer to Moses was, “I Myself will make all My goodness pass before you, and will proclaim the name of the LORD before you” (Exodus 33:19, NASB). When God was ready to take Moses to the next level of understanding his glory, he directed Moses to his character: “I will make my goodness pass before you and will proclaim the name of the Lord to you.” In other words, God was saying: “Do you want to know about my glory, Moses? Then let me tell you about who I am as a Person; let me show you my heart and reveal my kindness to you.”

The apostle Paul said it this way: “For God, who said, ‘Let there be light in the darkness,’ has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6, NLT). When the knowledge about what the Father is like comes to us in the face of Jesus, it is a powerfully transformative truth that pulls aside the veil that has separated us from God. That veil of lies and misunderstanding, deceitfully woven by Satan, dissolves when we recognize that our heavenly Father is just like Jesus in character.

What kind of person do we imagine God to be? Have we ever regarded him as stern or aloof? Do we think of him as exacting and severe, always on the lookout to condemn us for our errors? Do we ever picture the Father as a being who would strike without hesitation were it not for the pleadings of Jesus? For those of us who have imagined God to be this way, Jesus brings us good news and a message of peace from the very throne of heaven.

Let’s take a moment to form a picture of Jesus in our minds. You look into his eyes of perfect innocence and perfect peace, and there is an earnest yet gentle strength about him. You sense that he knows you completely, including the dark parts; yet he calls out to you with affection and infinite love. In Jesus, you experience the embrace of God the Father. To know and understand Jesus is to know and understand the Father because through Jesus shines “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God” (2 Corinthians 4:6, NASB).

Our picture of God and how he operates (including his judgment of us) is only as clear as our vision of Christ, for “in Him [Jesus] all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form” (Colossians 2:9, NASB). When we appreciate the character of Jesus Christ, we are really appreciating the character of the Father. What Jesus does, the Father does. Jesus’ attitude toward us is the same as the Father’s attitude toward us. Jesus’ feelings for us mirror the Father’s feelings for us, and how Jesus treated people is how the Father would treat us. When Jesus said, “If you had known Me, you would have known My Father also; from now on you know Him, and have seen Him” (John 14:7, NASB, emphasis supplied), he really meant it! So when we talk about the judgment, we can be sure that it does not represent a situation in which the Son is trying to persuade the Father to love or forgive us because when we see and know Jesus Christ, we see and know God.

But someone might ask, “Didn’t the Father require the blood of Jesus to extend forgiveness and to excuse us in the Judgment?” Let’s consider the answer to this question in the light of Jesus’ own words: “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of himself, unless it is something he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, these things the Son also does in like manner” (John 5:19, NASB, emphasis supplied). Jesus left no doubt about the motivation for his actions: In all circumstances, Christ did exactly what the Father does. Do we believe his testimony? If we do, let’s follow the implications. If God the Father requires the death of his Son so that he might forgive us, then Jesus, by his own description of himself, must also require someone’s death so that he might also forgive, “for whatever the Father does, these things the Son also does in like manner” (John 5:19, NASB).

Did Jesus ever require someone else’s blood or death in order to love, forgive, or heal? Or did he sacrifice himself for us? If Jesus Christ, in giving his own life, made no requirement of someone else’s death, then neither does the Father require anyone else’s death. Whenever Jesus extends love, forgiveness, and healing through his life and death, we see an exact representation of the Father’s character and how he wants to relate to us. Just as Jesus sacrificed himself, so the Father sacrificed himself in giving us his Son, “for whatever the Father does, these things the Son does in like manner.”

On the borders of the Promised Land, Moses declared to the children of Israel: “Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD is one” (Deuteronomy 6:4, NASB). Moses taught the people the concept of one God (as opposed to the many gods of Egypt). This statement is so simple and straightforward that it’s easy to miss its significance. “Yes, yes,” we say, “we already know there is only one God.” But if we really ponder the reality behind these words in the light of the New Testament, we unearth a deeper truth: God and Jesus are not only equal in terms of divinity; they are also unified in purpose and character. This reality Jesus Christ taught. The Scriptures reveal that Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are working together to bring us a clearer understanding of who God is. I praise God that Jesus revealed that the members of the Godhead are not concerned with appeasing each other, turning away wrath, or doing things that someone else in the Godhead is either unwilling or unable to do. Praise God that every member of the Trinity shares the same gracious and loving attitude toward us and that each of them is working in single-minded harmony to bring joy and healing to our sin-sick hearts. Praise God that he is indeed One.

What Jesus Said About Judgment

Where would we look to find the meaning of judgment? Webster’s? Dictionary.com? Strong’s Concordance? The Bible is full of references about judgment, and God has frequently employed the language of judgment to reach people in a wide variety of circumstances. When people’s hearts are hardened and the alarm of spiritual emergency pierces the air, God specifically uses judgment language (and will even resort to drastic measures) in order to cut through the darkness and grab our attention. If it’s a shout we need, God shouts! A shake-up, then there’s shaking! But God’s dramatic measures are never his preferred method of dealing with us; they are meant only to get us through an emergency, much as a fire alarm blares out only during a fire. After the fire is out, the purpose of the alarm has been served; and it is silenced. When we are noisy and rowdy, we need God’s thunder and lightning to reach us amidst our chaos. But as we listen to God’s voice in the stillness, we begin to recognize the character of the One who ate, drank, walked, talked, and lived among us. Jesus, God in human form, revealed to us the clearest description of God’s judgment. After all, who better to go to for a definition of judgment than the One through whom all powers, authorities, and laws were created!

Let’s look at how Jesus defined judgment in John chapter 9. As the account goes, a certain man who was born blind was healed by Christ on the Sabbath. This was quite disagreeable to the local Pharisees, and they questioned the man sharply about the incident. The whole affair ended up with the man being expelled from the synagogue.

Jesus heard that they had put him out [of the synagogue], and finding him, He said, ‘Do you believe in the Son of Man?’ He answered, ‘Who is He, Lord, that I may believe in Him?’ Jesus said to him, ‘You have both seen Him, and He is the one who is talking with you.’ And he said, ‘Lord, I believe.’ And he worshiped Him. And Jesus said, ‘For judgment I came into this world, so that those who do not see may see, and that those who see may become blind.’ Those of the Pharisees who were with Him heard these things and said to Him, ‘We are not blind too, are we?’ Jesus said to them, ‘If you were blind, you would have no sin; but since you say, “We see,” your sin remains.’ (John 9:35-41, NASB, emphasis supplied).

Notice again how Jesus described judgment: “For judgment I came into this world, so that those who do not see may see, and that those who see may become blind.” The appearance and witness of Jesus caused the blind man and the Pharisees to make decisions. The effect of sight or blindness occurred as a result of their own choices. The key point here is not that Christ intended to judge and condemn the Pharisees but that judgment was the natural result of Christ’s actions and how the Pharisees chose to respond. The intention of Christ is to bring spiritual sight (understanding) to everyone under all circumstances. God by nature is a Healer, not a destroyer. God came as the man Jesus and revealed his true character. We are judged by the way we see and respond to the evidence of his life.

One of the clearest definitions of judgment is found in John, chapter 3, which begins with these words spoken by Christ: “This is the judgment...” When we read such a statement, it’s safe to say that a specific definition of judgment is on the way. “This is the judgment,” Jesus declares, “that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light…. For everyone who does evil hates the Light…. But he who practices the truth comes to the Light” (John 3:20, 21, NASB, emphasis supplied).

According to Jesus, judgment takes place within our own minds and hearts (as opposed to an external decree brought down upon us). Christ brought the light of truth into the world, and its very presence causes something to happen in us. Either we decide the truth is attractive and right, or we decide against it—preferring the dark. So judgment works through our conclusions about God, not as a result of God judging us. For God has already revealed his attitude toward us, in that he “did not send the Son into the world to judge the world but that the world might be saved through Him” (John 3:17, NASB, emphasis supplied).

A Question About the Father

If Jesus was not sent to judge the world, then who will execute judgment in the end? The Father? Christ gives us a clear answer: “For not even the Father judges anyone, but he has given all judgment to the Son” (John 5:22, NASB emphasis supplied). Jesus is clear: the Father judges no one. Instead, he has deferred all judgment to the Son.

This brings us to an interesting situation! We’ve read that the Father doesn’t judge anyone because he’s turned that duty over to the Son, according to John 5:22. So Christ judges us? No, wait. Jesus has already said he wasn’t sent into the world to judge it but to save it. And in John 12:47, he reiterates this fact: “If anyone hears my sayings and does not keep them, I do not judge him; for I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world” (NASB, emphasis supplied).

So if we were to summarize Jesus’ definition of judgment thus far, we might say this: The Father does not judge us—he has completely delegated judgment to his Son, Jesus. Jesus has accepted this delegation and has chosen to work for our salvation, not our judgment. His mission is to reveal the truth about God, and he leaves a decision of acceptance up to us. Christ does not play favorites. He presents himself before the best and worst of us as our Savior and Healer. His invitation of salvation and healing is open to all of us, and it is up to us to judge if he is worthy of our trust. But how?

Judgment, Judgmentalism, and Satan

How does Jesus’ definition of judgment fit our traditional way of viewing the matter? Is not God the Judge of all the earth? On the Day of Judgment, doesn’t Jesus separate the goats from the sheep, the wheat from the tares, and the righteous from the wicked?

Yes, but right here, we must make a very clear distinction. While God reveals judgments, makes decisions, and intervenes in history at certain times, he is not judgmental in the sense that he is set against us until we “get our act together.” Satan has had much success in leading us to see God as a being whose primary motive is to evaluate us and to find fault. The enemy’s misrepresentation of God’s motives has distorted our conceptions of the Judgment. Too often, we understand Judgment as the time when God will unleash the final outpouring of retribution upon humanity. However, when God became the man Jesus Christ and laid down his life on our behalf, he overturned Satan’s false picture of a vindictive God. In Christ is revealed God’s true position in relation to us. The “accuser of the brethren” is Satan, not God!

Then I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, “Now the salvation, and the power, and the kingdom of our God and the authority of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren has been thrown down, he who accuses them before our God day and night.” (Revelation 12:10, NASB).

I see some really good news here. According to John, God does not use his power and authority in order to gain leverage on us in the Judgment but to defeat Satan, our supreme enemy.

What Judges Us?

Let’s back up for a moment and address the question we wrestled with a few paragraphs ago about God being the Judge of all the earth and Jesus separating the righteous from the wicked. In one sense, God brings about judgment; and Christ tells us exactly how this works: “He who rejects me and does not receive my sayings, has one who judges him; the word I spoke is what will judge him at the last day” (John 12:48, NASB). It is the Word that does the judging. And what is this Word? In John 1:14 we read: “And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw his glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.” The Word is the life and example of Jesus Christ—the Word of his actions and teachings. In everything he did and said, Jesus demonstrated the truth about the character of God.[1] When we are confronted with the reality of God’s character through the Word of Jesus, we must make a choice; and it becomes necessary that we judge God—not with a proud or self-righteous mind but with a mind ready to make an intelligent decision: To whom do we entrust our very being?

God does not “make up” a distinction between those who, upon seeing the evidence presented by Jesus Christ, choose to trust him and those who do not. He merely brings to light what already exists. This revelation comes about because God fully reveals who he is and what life looks like with him. For those who have set their hearts against God, this disclosure may appear as an act of personal judgment. Such people perceive God as being judgmental, while in reality, he is not. The revelation of God’s true identity to any of us is no more a judgmental act than a tender father communicating his loving intentions to his own child.

Good News in God’s Judgment

And I saw another angel flying in midheaven, having an eternal gospel to preach to those who live on the earth, and to every nation and tribe and tongue and people; and he said with a loud voice, “Fear God, and give Him glory, because the hour of His judgment has come.” (Revelation 14:6, 7, NASB).

It might come as a surprise that the Judgment is part of the gospel message. After all, the word gospel means “good news”; and where’s the good news in being judged? I’ve been excited to find out that the Judgment really is no less good news than any other part of the gospel. Let’s take a look at Revelation 14:6 again: “And I saw another angel flying in midheaven, having an eternal gospel to preach to those who live on the earth, and to every nation and tribe and tongue and people.”

The apostle John saw an angel flying in the middle of heaven, the highest point in the sky. The position of this angel tells us something about the message he bears. If a communication comes to us from the middle of heaven, from the highest visible point, it’s something God really wants us to know. And this testimony is given from a place so high that it reaches every tribe, language, and people! And what is this lofty message of worldwide impact? The apostle called it “an everlasting gospel” or, in plain English—the eternal Good News!

What is this eternal Good News all about, and how does the Judgment fit into it? Being eternal, it must have at least predated the human race. But if it really is eternal, then it also must have predated the Fall, sin, and even Satan! Only if this Good News is so good, so unchanging and constant, only if it’s so closely related to God himself, can it rightly be called “eternal.” In fact, there is only one entity in all existence that is eternal, and that is God himself! So any news labeled “eternal” must have its focus squarely on God. In short, the gospel is about God—the good news is about God himself![2]

And this good news was with God in the beginning, and it was God. For “in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1, NASB). This Word is the manifestation of God through Jesus—the good news that preexisted all other news. But how can a message of judgment be identified with the eternal gospel? What kind of judgment is this?

Let’s return once more to Revelation 14:6, 7:

And I saw another angel flying in midheaven, having an eternal gospel to preach to those who live on the earth, and to every nation and tribe and tongue and people; and he said with a loud voice, “Fear God, and give Him glory, because the hour of His judgment has come; worship Him who made the heaven and the earth and sea and springs of waters.” (NASB).

Is this angel issuing a stern command? Worship, or be judged! To be honest, I have often read these passages much as new enlistees might take orders from their commanding officer: follow orders, or else! Submit, or give me fifty! Worship God, or die! These verses can be read that way. But recently, I have understood them more as I would an invitation. As we read these verses, we must keep in mind the word of God through Isaiah, “Come now, and let us reason together” (1:18, NASB). God wants us to enter into a relationship with him based on reason—our ability to think and decide. He wants us to consider the evidence, talk with him, and lay out our concerns. Our Creator wants us to see the everlasting goodness of his character so that we will worship and admire him in the highest sense of freedom and without fear of punishment.

Let’s scrutinize our two texts from Revelation a little more (I find the more we “squeeze,” the better the news gets!). We read that the outcome of the presentation of the “eternal gospel” is that attention is drawn to God (as opposed to us). “Fear God,” or be in awed reverence of him, and “give him glory.” The focus lifts our gaze upward, away from ourselves and to God. And why glorify God in a state of awed reverence? Because the hour of our judgment has come? No. “Because the hour of His judgment has come; worship Him who made the heaven and the earth and sea and springs of waters.” God deserves the attention and glory—not we. The Judgment is about him and his trustworthiness.

The preaching of the eternal gospel has a powerful effect on those who receive it. In fact, this everlasting good news about God is the inspiration behind a very famous song. Have you heard it? (I wish I knew the tune so I could start humming!) The apostle John knew about this song—he called it the “Song of Moses” and the “Song of the Lamb.” It goes like this:

Great and marvelous are Your works,

O Lord God, the Almighty;

Righteous and true are Your ways,

King of the nations!

Who will not fear, O Lord, and glorify Your name?

For You alone are holy;

For all the nations will come and worship before You,

For Your righteous acts have been revealed.

(Revelation 15:3, 4, NASB, emphasis supplied).

For me, this song is exciting enough as a standalone. But more than a mere standalone, it’s a responsive song between the angel with the eternal gospel and the saints. Maybe you’ve been part of a responsive reading at church. A leader starts out with a phrase, and then the entire congregation answers with a phrase of their own. The replies keep going back and forth between the leader and the congregation until they reach a conclusion. When the material is right and everyone’s heart and soul are poured into the responses, the effect can be dramatic and moving.

What we find in Revelation 14:6, 7 and Revelation 15:3 is like a responsive reading.[3] The leader (the angel with the eternal gospel) says his part, and the congregation sings their response. There are three “angel” announcements and three “congregational” responses. As we read, we notice the tightly connecting themes linking the announcements of the angel in Revelation 14 with the song of the saints in Revelation 15.

Now imagine an exceedingly bright and glorious angel high in the heavens shouting out his part, and the entire congregation of the saints singing out their response in rapturous joy:

The angel says in a loud voice, “Fear God and give him glory!” (Revelation 14:6, NASB).

And the saints sing, “Who will not fear and glorify Your name? For you alone are holy!” (Revelation 15:4, NASB).

The angel proclaims, “Worship Him who made the heavens and the earth and sea and springs of water!” (Revelation 14:7, NASB).

And the saints sing out, “Great and marvelous are your works, O Lord God, the Almighty; Righteous and true are Your ways, King of the nations!” (Revelation 15:3, NASB).

The angel announces, “The hour of His judgment has come!” (Revelation 14:7, NASB).

And saints raise their voices, “For all the nations will come and worship before you, for Your righteous acts have been revealed!” (Revelation 15:4. NASB).

The key to unlocking the mystery of the Judgment of God is found in the Song of Moses and the Lamb and is sung by the saints. “Righteous and true are Your ways…for Your righteous acts have been revealed!” The glorious truth about God is seen in his righteous acts. The angel announces God’s Judgment because his righteousness, his truth, his glory are revealed. When we consider the evidence about God’s character—as revealed by Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection—and when we judge him to be trustworthy, we are drawn away from ourselves to him and in the process are changed. In this way, we are judged by the judgments we make about God. God’s character is studied, vindicated, and exalted as a result; then there will be “nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face. And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him” (2 Corinthians 3:17, 18, MSG).

[1].  “Jesus said in a loud voice, ‘Whoever believes in me believes not only in me but also in him who sent me. Whoever sees me sees also him who sent me. I have come into the world as light, so that everyone who believes in me should not remain in the darkness.’” (John 12:44-46).

[2].  “For in it [the gospel] the righteousness of God is revealed” (Romans 1:17, NRSV, NKJV, NASB, ESV).

[3].  You may notice that the order of “announcements” in Revelation 14:7 does not sequence exactly with the “replies” in Revelation 15:3, 4. However, there is such a tight thematic correlation between Revelation 14:7 and Revelation 15:3, 4 that presenting them in terms of “announcements” and “replies” is justified.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Intrinsic or Imposed?

Thoughts on the Fire of God

HERB MONTGOMERY

We are punished by our sins, not for them.

—Elbert Hubbard

God saves by persuasion, not compulsion, for compulsion is no

attribute of God.

—Epistle of Diognetus

Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear of punishment.

—Mahatma Gandhi

INTRINSIC OR IMPOSED! Interesting words, but what do they mean? Imposed means “put upon” or “inflicted upon.” Intrinsic means “inherent” or “already there.” Imagine that your child is running down the sidewalk and you tell her: “If you keep running down that sidewalk, I will pick you up by the scruff of your neck, and I will tan your hide.” If you follow through with this threat, you have imposed pain upon your child for running on the sidewalk. But now suppose that she is running down the sidewalk and you say: “Listen, if you keep running, you might trip and fall and skin your knee”; however, she does not listen and she trips and falls and gets hurt.In this example, the pain that your child experiences is intrinsic to the nature of the activity she was engaged in. The fall caused the pain, not you.

The Bible does speak about punishment for our sins, but the question I ask you to consider is whether the punishment that we are warned about is imposed or intrinsic. In other words, will God punish us for our sins, or does sin bring about its own punishment?

Matthew 1:21 states: “Mary will bear a son, and you shall call Him Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins” (NASB). However, according to some voices today, Jesus came to save us from the anger of an offended God. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that Jesus came to appease God or save us through some red-tape solution. It does say, however, that we have been taken captive by something. Titus 2:14 tells us that Jesus came to redeem us from every lawless deed. The Young’s Literal Translation uses the term ransom. Let’s consider carefully the language that Scripture uses. Is there a price involved when you purchase something? Did Jesus pay a price for our redemption? Yes. But was the price that he paid imposed by God, or was that price intrinsic?

The payment that Jesus made was not like you and me going down to the grocery store to purchase a gallon of milk. Rather, we’ve been taken captive by our sinful nature, so it is sin that we need to be ransomed from. Jesus didn’t pay off God or the devil; instead, he ransomed us from the guilt and punishment of sin that controlled us. But how?

Have you ever deliberately done something to hurt somebody else? If so, you may know firsthand that sin sets in motion a certain intrinsic chain of events—a cause followed by a very real effect. Sin is rooted in a misperception of God, which is often followed by destructive deeds that cause us to experience emotional and psychological distress. It makes us feel guilty, ashamed, and fearful. All of these are the intrinsic results of sin. When we sin, we experience psychological torment. In fact, the very real and intense struggle we experience when we look someone in the eye after we’ve purposefully hurt them is in itself punishment at that very moment. I’m not saying that sin will go unpunished—oh, no! But we must realize that God himself longs for us to understand how our sin is going to be punished.

I have a 5-year-old daughter named Emma. She is so precious. Her real name is Emarya. She called me on the phone the other day, and our conversation went something like this:

“Papa, I miss you.” (I had been gone on a speaking engagement all week.)

“Honey, I miss you too,” I replied.

“I want you to know that you’re my favorite Papa that I’ve ever had,”  she continued.

“Honey, I’m the only Papa you’ve ever had.”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” she said. “I want you to know today that whatever you think, I really do love you more than you love me.”

Jokingly, I responded, “Honey, I’m not going to do this with you like I do it with your older sister.”

“No, I can prove it!” she insisted. Now she had my attention—how could she prove it?

“Papa,” she replied, “you’ve only loved me five years of your life. I’ve loved you all the years of mine.”

Ahhhhhh! Do you have any idea what it would do to my heart if I looked into her eyes one day, once she has become an adult, and saw there instead of love, absolute fear? It would break my heart. Immature children sometimes need fear of punishment in order to obey. But it’s a sad state of affairs if adults do what is right based only on the fear of punishment. In the same way, fear may be necessary for “babes in the truth,” in the beginning of our growing in grace; but it shouldn’t be the motivating force for mature Christians. The God of this universe wants us to understand how sin will be punished. He wants a relationship based upon love not fear (1 John 4:18).

We read in Exodus that Moses asked God, “Show me Your glory.” And God replied, “I’ll cause all my goodness to pass before you, but you cannot see my face.” Why? “For no man shall see me and live” (Exodus 33:18-20, NKJV). Why? Is God’s face a giant secret? Is it like Marlon Brando saying, “I’d show you, but then I’d have to kill you?” Would God impose the death penalty on us if we saw his face?

In Isaiah 6 we read that Isaiah saw the Lord high and lifted up. Most of us think we would enjoy that experience. Wouldn’t you like to see God? What amazes me is that when Isaiah saw God, he didn’t say, “Woo-hoo—this is what I’ve always wanted.” He said; “Woe is me, for I am undone! Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts” (Isaiah 6:5, NKJV). When we see God, when we step into his presence, when God is fully and actively revealed to us; because of our natural, self-centered state, it is not always a positive experience. Just as with Isaiah, when we see God, we become keenly aware of ourselves. We begin to sense how out of harmony we truly are with everything he is. And as we begin to sense even a little bit of this disharmony, we experience intrinsic psychological and emotional torment.

If God were to show up here today, right now, visibly—if we could see all of him and likewise see all of ourselves and in that one moment become keenly aware of how out of harmony we are with his selfless love, and all that weight of guilt and shame and self-reproach came crushing down on our psyche—in that moment, would we be able to bear it? If the experiences of the prophets who did have such an encounter with God (for example Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, or even John in the New Testament) are any indication, it appears that we, too, would experience a sense of “punishment,” so to speak. But would that punishment be intrinsic or imposed? (I’m purposefully using the word punishment to broaden our use of terms on both sides of the fence.) Perhaps we can answer this question if we consider the final result of an encounter with God in our natural state more closely. What would the weight of guilt and shame do to our lives? More specifically, what will the final encounter with God be like for those who refuse to believe in God’s unfathomable forgiveness? Undoubtedly, the Bible uses scary language when it talks about the end of “sinners” who reject God. Particularly frightening to some, perhaps, is the Bible’s use of the term fire! Let’s look closely at some of that language.

Mark 9:43, 44 tells us that Jesus said: “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off. It’s better for you to enter life crippled than to have two hands going to hell into unquenchable fire where the worm does not die and the fire is not quenched” (NASB). Without doubt, the Bible talks about unquenchable or everlasting, eternal fire. The two popular opinions within Christianity are that God will torment people forever and ever in everlasting flames, or that he will simply annihilate them. The proponents of the first opinion tend to take these passages literally. The torment must be “forever,” simply because it says “unquenchable, everlasting fire.” The other group goes so far as to pull verses out of their biblical context to prove that “forever” doesn’t really mean forever, “unquenchable” doesn’t really mean unquenchable, and “everlasting” doesn’t really mean everlasting.[1]

While I am not an adherent of the eternal torment idea, it is extremely important to me that when the Bible says “everlasting,” it really means it! Because God whispers to our hearts, “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jeremiah 31:3)! So please, let’s not waste time or energy redefining the word everlasting.

A third option we should consider is that when the Bible talks about everlasting fire, it might not be redefining the word everlasting but using the word fire differently from how we might be accustomed to hearing it used. Is it possible that it isn’t referring to literal flames? Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not disputing the fact that there might be a literal fire in the end. But notice that Jeremiah 17:27 mentions an unquenchable fire that would destroy Jerusalem (predicting the Babylonian captivity) that “no one will be able to put out.” This could not possibly refer to a physical flame, however, as Jerusalem is no longer burning. Jude 1:7 talks about Sodom and Gomorrah being turned to ashes with eternal fire; but once again, the physical flames that burned those cities to the ground aren’t still burning, either. Is it possible that passages like these are an indication to us that when the Bible uses this language of “not quenched” and “eternal,” it might not literally be referring to a physical flame? After all, that’s not how it actually happened in the examples we just considered. Are those flames still burning today? No. So I propose that it’s not the word everlasting that must be reinterpreted; rather, we must look at the representation of “fire” in the Bible.

Hebrews 12:29 tells us that “our God is a consuming fire” (NASB). But if we were to go up to heaven right now and look inside the throne room, would we see a large campfire seated on that chair? A physical flame? In what sense is our God a consuming fire? When John the Baptist saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them:

Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?... The ax is already laid at the root of the tree; therefore, every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. As for me, I baptize you with water unto repentance, but He who is coming after me is mightier than I. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire…unquenchable fire. (Matthew 3:7-12, NKJV, emphasis supplied).

The word baptism means immersion. Do we ever see Jesus walking around, picking people up by their toga collars and immersing them in large vats of literal flames? But did Jesus baptize people with fire? Yes, John the Baptist said so. And notice what kind of fire. Matthew tells us that “His winnowing fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly clean out His threshing floor, and gather His wheat into the barn; but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire” (Matthew 3:12, NKJV). The fire in which Jesus immersed people was the kind of fire that is unquenchable, eternal, and everlasting.

Jesus himself tells us: “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already kindled!” (Luke 12:49, GNB). Was he talking about being a Boy Scout, starting physical forest fires throughout the world? No, the Bible gives us more pieces of the puzzle to help us comprehend the correct picture.

John tells us that the entire nature of God can be summed up in three words: God is love (1 John 4:8). And Solomon defined the fire of God in the following way:

Put me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm

For love is as strong as death…

Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord.

Many waters cannot quench love,

Nor will rivers overflow it. (Song of Solomon 8:6, 7, NASB).

According to the Song of Solomon, the fire of God—the eternal, unquenchable, everlasting fire—is God’s eternal, unquenchable, everlasting love for us! That’s a fire to get excited about! God’s heart for you and me is filled with unquenchable love! There’s nothing you can do that will ever put it out. Nothing! You cannot change it, and you cannot quench it. His love for us is eternal. John the Baptist, however, tells us that the person who “does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” So in what way will the fire of God’s everlasting love be life to some and death to others? How will it be destructive? Let’s look at this a little more closely.

The apostle Paul also defines fire in a similar way: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him, and if he is thirsty, give him a drink” (Romans 12:30). What are we showing our enemy when we do that? Love! And Paul concludes, “For in so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Physical coals? Of course not! What we are really showing to our enemy is love! Yet the Bible uses this symbolic language and calls it “burning coals on his head.” Perhaps this expression helps us uncover a biblical definition for “fire and brimstone”—a symbol used in the book of Revelation. But how can we reconcile the destructive fire of Revelation with what God states through the prophet Jeremiah: “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jeremiah 31:3, NASB)?

Let’s try to understand how God’s everlasting love could ever take on destructive qualities. Isaiah 33 says,

“Now I will rise,” says the LORD;

“Now I will be exalted,

Now I will lift Myself up.”

The sinners in Zion are afraid;

Fearfulness has seized the hypocrites:

“Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire?

Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?” (vss. 10, 14, NKJV).

I was raised a Baptist (I love Baptists! Where I’m from, there are more Baptists than there are people!). I grew up thinking that the ones who end up in the everlasting burnings are evil sinners who refuse to accept Jesus as their Savior. But pay close attention to what Isaiah tells us: “Who is going to dwell with the everlasting burnings?” Pay close attention: “He who walks righteously, who speaks uprightly, who despises the gain of oppression, who gestures his hands, refusing bribes. He stops his ears during the hearing of bloodshed, shuts his eyes from looking upon evil” (Isaiah 33:14, 15, NKJV, emphasis supplied).

Who is going to dwell with these everlasting burnings? The righteous! Please tell me that this is not referring to a physical flame! But if not physical, what is it talking about; and how does God’s love fit this symbolic description? If we were to outline what it would be like to enter into that everlasting flame of God’s unquenchable love, we would find ourselves standing in the presence of pure other-centeredness. Next, we would naturally become fully aware of how out of harmony we are with that other-centeredness. And the perception of this disharmony would intrinsically create in us an unbearable psychological and emotional torment that, if we were left to bear it alone, would crush out our life. Thus, there will be some who are consumed by that everlasting fire and others who dwell in it. What’s most important, then, is to know what makes the difference between these two groups.

Before we get to that, I would like to focus on the intrinsic results of what it means for a sinner to come into God’s fully disclosed, other-centered presence after the Fall. Have you ever struggled to look someone in the eye after you had wronged them? Why is that? It’s because you feel guilt and shame for what you have done; and when you look them in the eye, you become keenly aware of your misdeed, and then your guilt and shame intensify. The guilt and shame intrinsically connected to your sin would be so much more intensified, that, once again, if left to bear your guilt alone, it would crush out your life. The proof of this is the Cross of Christ. When Jesus took your sin upon himself, he bore in himself the intrinsically connected shame and guilt that are produced by sin. And what did it do to him? It killed him.

So what makes the difference between some sinners who are able to dwell in God’s unquenchable love and other sinners who are consumed by it?

I want us to think back to our original illustration. Think of someone right now with whom you have struggled in the past to make eye contact after something you did. Have you ever experienced that beautiful stage of reconciliation that today allows you to be in their presence, look them in the eye, and be at peace? What is it that occurred between you and that individual that brought both of you to this point? The answer is simple: Forgiveness! What is the difference between those who are consumed by that everlasting flame of love and those who dwell in perfect peace in the flames of that everlasting love? What is the difference between the two groups so commonly known as the “righteous” and the “wicked”? Certainly it is not that one group is forgiven and the other isn’t, for God forgives all sinners alike. This was clearly shown to us by Jesus—God in human form, who hung on the Cross and forgave those who did not ask to be forgiven.[2] So what is the difference between those two groups of people?

Not the slightest reason exists as to why every person on Planet Earth should not right now be able to live in the presence of that holy fire again, except for the fact that they will not believe how thoroughly and deeply they have been forgiven. If every person would take hold of God’s forgiveness by faith—which simply means to believe that they are truly forgiven, no matter how guilt ridden they may feel—they would experience the release from all that intrinsic torment through the power of God’s forgiveness. Please note that it will not be due to a lack of forgiveness on God’s part that any are lost at last. It will be because of a lack of belief on the part of the lost. In Christ, the Father gave himself to humanity so that we would believe that he loves us us, that he has forgiven us, and that he accepts us as we are—in all of our sinfulness. What a shame it would be to doubt such love or to allow our own emotions and feelings of unworthiness to eclipse that love.

Perhaps you are one who feels unworthy. Each time I look at the Cross and see the beauty of God’s self-abandoning love, I feel unworthy, as well. The God of this universe, in the person of his Son, looked into all the glories of heaven and said, “Heaven is not a place that I desire to be, if Herb cannot be there.” God was faced with saving either himself or me—with eternal ruin for himself or eternal ruin for me. And in those closing moments of his life, he said, “I will save Herb Montgomery at any cost to myself.” Heaven was not a place that he desired to be if I could not be there with him. And he closed his eyes, feeling as if he were going into the tomb, never to be remembered again, for me (Psalms 88). When I consider that amazing love, my emotional response is: “God, give up heaven for someone else, but don’t do it for me. I’m not worth it, God.” I know myself. I know the life I’ve lived. If you knew some of the things I’ve done, you’d wonder what right I have to be writing this chapter. I am unworthy. But do you know what I hear him saying to me every time I experience those feelings? Pay close attention, those who struggle to believe that you’re already forgiven and eternally loved. I hear him say to me: “Herb, I didn’t do it because you are worthy. I did it because I love you, and you can’t change that. As a matter of fact, I’m especially fond of you, son. And I want you to believe that, too.”

An intrinsic, life-crushing punishment is present in sin. But is that punishment being imposed on individuals because they’ve sinned, or is it intrinsic to the reality of coming, as a sinner, into the presence of him who is love? Hear this: God is not who we should be afraid of! Sin is what we should fear. God is not the one Jesus came to save us from. Sin is what he came to save us from. God is not the enemy! Sin is.

But how do we explain all of those places where the Bible doesn’t say that sin will hurt us but that God will?

My mom is 5 feet and 3/4ths of an inch tall. Do you know what that means? She always wanted to reach 5 feet and 1 inch but never did. I’m 5 feet and 5 inches tall, so she’s about 4 inches shorter than I am. Although my mom is shorter than I am, I did not challenge my mother when I was growing up. She was a liberal mom, but you didn’t challenge her. Her favorite line was, “I brought you into this world; I can take you out!” She firmly believed that every child needs to discover for him- or herself the intrinsic nature of this life—how cause and effect works. She also believed that children should be allowed to experiment and learn about life—and that they will figure it out. Parents don’t need to be involved too much, she concluded.

I tested that philosophy at age 14, the first time she caught me smoking. She sat me down, looked me in the eye, and said: “Herb, I know you needed to experiment with this. I know you needed to learn for yourself what this is all about, and now I will trust that you learned the lesson the first time. Because if I ever catch you smoking again”—she looked me dead square in the eye—“you don’t need to worry about lung cancer. I’ll kill you.” I had friends make fun of me all through high school. They’d tease me and ask: “What are you, chicken? You think that’s going to hurt you?” And I’d say, “No. I’m not afraid of that at all. That’s not what scares me.”

Now consider the reality of this situation. As a 14-year-old kid, was I able to link the intrinsic results of smoking cigarettes with the possibility of a diagnosis of lung cancer half a century later? Was I mentally capable of connecting the intrinsic results of smoking with the behavior of smoking? Probably not! So what did my mother have to do? She had to give me a close-up! She had to bring smoking and death together right there for me. How did she do it? In my thinking, she had to become, temporarily, the source of that death for me. As a 14-year-old kid, I refrained from smoking—not because it might give me lung cancer some day, but simply because I was afraid of what my mother would impose upon me if I engaged in that activity. Today as a 33-year-old man, I still don’t smoke. Why? Because I’m still afraid of my mother! (No, just kidding.) Today, I refrain from smoking, not out of fear of what may be imposed on me by my mother, but because of what smoking intrinsically will do to me. When parents impose punishments or bestow rewards based on their children’s behavior, they hope these will be temporary measures. They desire that their children will mature to the point that they do not respond out of fear of what their parents might impose, but rather that their response will be based on what they understand to be the intrinsic results of their behavior.

Have you ever punished your children for something they did? Why did you do that? Wasn’t the goal of your punishment ultimately to teach your child about the intrinsic dangerous consequences of his or her behavior? Has God ever imposed discipline upon people for their sins? Certainly! Why? So that we’ll be afraid of him—or so that we’ll ultimately learn that sinful and rebellious thoughts and behaviors will hurt and destroy us? In his wisdom, God taught us to associate pain with sinful behavior, in the hope that one day we would mature into responsible people who would eventually choose freely to do good rather than evil, fully knowing the intrinsic consequences of either choice.

Let’s return to the biblical imagery of eternal fire, and I believe we will see that it is truly referring to the intrinsic effects of sin in the presence of God rather than to some physical flame that God kindles upon the skin of sinners as an imposed punishment for their sin. Let’s consider the words of the prophet Isaiah:

Sinners in Zion are afraid. Fearfulness has seized the hypocrite. Who among us shall dwell in the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with the everlasting burning?

Who will dwell in the fire? Many will be consumed by it, but who will dwell throughout eternity with him who is an eternal consuming fire?

Those who are righteous![3]

Some may throw their hands into the air and ask if this means that there will not be a literal fire. Peter assures us that the elements will melt with fervent heat

(2 Peter 3:10). But the important question is, which fire is going to end the life of the wicked? A fire that causes them to suffer psychologically and emotionally, or a fire that makes them suffer physically? Which one ended Jesus’ life—what he suffered physically or that which he suffered psychologically or emotionally? I would suggest it was the intrinsic psychological torment of our sin that crushed out his life. Thus, which one do you think will end the life of those who are lost? Some will ask: “If the intrinsic consequence of sin in the presence of love personified is going to end their lives, what then is the purpose of a literal fire?”

Perhaps the story of Nadab and Abihu found in Leviticus 10 would be instructive. Verse 2 tells us that fire broke out from the presence of God and consumed them. (One would naturally assume that they were completely burned up.) Yet verse 5 states: “They came forward and carried them still in their tunics to the outside of the camp, as Moses had said.” Although they had been “consumed” by the “fire” of God, the structural integrity of their clothing was maintained to the point that their clothing could be used to drag their dead bodies out of the camp. We can be sure that Moses wasn’t talking about an elemental fire; but considering this story, what would be the purpose of an elemental flame, as described by Peter? Speculating on the options, this final fire that melts the elements either puts them out of their misery ahead of time and mercifully cuts short the mental and psychological torture—or it represents “clean-up time.” My personal inclination is toward the second view because I find it more consistent with what the entire Bible has to say on the subject of “eternal” fire.

The point is this: In every trespass, in every violation, two hearts are involved. The violated may harbor feelings of anger and a desire for restitution or revenge; while the violator may experience guilt, shame, and torment in his or her heart. For centuries, Christians have taught that the final fate of those who have rejected God’s grace will be the result of all that has been transpiring against them in the heart of God. But Calvary is shining from the distance, and we have yet to really understand what it’s trying to reveal to us. If anyone is lost forever, it will not be because of any anger, ill feelings, or need for revenge on God’s part. Calvary is like a sign to us that God wears on his chest, which states that this kind of attitude does not exist in his heart toward us sinners—whether we are sinners who have believed or sinners who have rejected him. If anyone is lost, it will be the result of the crushing guilt, shame, and torment experienced by the sinner, intensified by coming into the presence of a God who is love personified. They will suffer and die because they have rejected the divine forgiveness that could have taken all of that psychological torment away. Consider the following illustration:

God’s Love Revealed:  Sin > Psychological Torment > Death

God wants to take our sin, our past failures and mistakes—everything we’ve done and everything we’ve become—and replace it with the assurance of his conscience-cleansing forgiveness.[4] Then our experience will become:

God’s Love Revealed > Assurance of Forgiveness > Peace > Life Eternal

On the day we stand enveloped in God’s completely other-centered presence, will we be standing there crushed by all of our shame, guilt, and condemnation? Or will we be among those who despite the knowledge of our sinfulness can stand there in the full assurance of his forgiveness and love?

These are the only two options. In them is the destiny of all. Will we continue to resist? Will we continue to repeat how unworthy we are, raising our objections and our questions, hiding where we feel safe? Or will we risk believing that the forgiveness of God that has always surrounded us is as real as the air we breathe? Will we allow ourselves to open up? Will we let him in? Will we believe that the God of this universe loves us and that we are already forgiven? This belief, this faith, will set us free from our soul-crushing guilt, shame, and condemnation. It will usher us into a life in which we will experience the extravagant love and amazing grace of God and intimate friendship with God, ever-deepening and broadening throughout the ceaseless ages of eternity. God isn’t saying, “Love me, or I’ll kill you.” He is saying, “You are dying! Let me save you!” Thus, the only question really worth asking is in regard to God’s heart and what he desires for us; and in the answer lies the fate of us all. The God of the universe passionately loves and forgives you. Will you believe?

[1].  Such verses used may be, but are not limited to, Jude 1:7; Jeremiah 17:27; 1 Samuel 1:22; Jonah 2:6; and Ezekiel 20:47, 48.

[2].  Jesus cried out, “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing,” referring specifically to his torturers, who didn’t even ask for forgiveness. This is God’s attitude toward all sinners, whether they ask him to forgive or not. Jesus stated, “He who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9, NASB).

[3].  This embraces every man, woman, and child who has ever lived; for Christ has accomplished for and given to every person a righteousness that is their birthright possession through his life, death, and resurrection. For anyone to be lost, they must refuse, throw away, and choose not to accept this gift given them through Christ’s shed blood.

[4].  See also Matthew 1:21; Hebrews 9:14; 1 Peter 3:21.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The Wrath of the Lamb

BRAD COLE

WHEN MY SON CALEB WAS JUST BEGINNING to talk, he toddled after me to watch as I sawed and hammered together some raised garden beds. The loud hammering scared him just a little, so he watched from a distance and winced every time the hammer pounded a nail. The “BAM! BAM! BAM!” of the hammer hitting the nail suddenly changed to a dull “thud” as the hammer smashed my finger. As I jumped to my feet, flailing my throbbing finger in the air, Caleb came out of hiding from behind a tree. Running up to me with scorn on his face, he hit my arm and said, “Daddy, say ouch! Daddy, say ouch!” He was scolding me for not saying the word ouch, that in his short life he had come to associate with sudden and severe pain.

Children learn language mainly by hearing words as they are used in context. My wife and I never sat Caleb down as a toddler to explain formally the meaning of the word ouch. He picked up the meaning of this word by associating it with the painful response to a pricked finger or a stubbed toe. And on this occasion, even though my finger still throbbed with pain, I couldn’t help but laugh at his insistence and finally said, “Yes, Caleb—ouch!”

When we seek to understand the meaning of a concept or word in the Bible, one of the most helpful methods of interpretation is to see how that concept or word is used in context throughout the entirety of Scripture. If we really believe that the Bible consists of more than a random collection of sixty-six writings of “good literature” that just happened to be compiled together as one book, we should use the Bible as a whole to define and interpret key concepts.

God’s Wrath in Revelation

The subject of “God’s wrath” is impossible to understand unless we use all of Scripture as our guide. To illustrate this point, let’s imagine that our “Bible” consisted only of the book of Revelation and that everything we know about God in written form was found in those twenty-two chapters.

The book of Revelation is analogous to a modern-day dramatic motion picture. Like all great stories, we are continually invited to consider the contrast between the side of “good” and “evil”; and in this sense, the book of Revelation is similar to the modern-day Star Wars or Lord of the Rings movies. The two main actors in Revelation are Jesus and Satan, who are symbolically represented by a lamb and a dragon. Both the lamb and the dragon exhibit a form of wrath. For example, the people call “to the mountains and rocks, ‘Fall on us and hide us from the face of the one seated on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb’” (Revelation 6:16, NRSV). And in response to “those who worship the beast and its image, and receive a mark on their foreheads or on their hands, they will also drink the wine of God’s wrath, poured unmixed into the cup of his anger, and they will be tormented with fire and sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb” (Revelation 14:9, 10, NRSV). And finally, there is a description of a final outpouring of God’s wrath, as the command goes out to seven angels, “Go and pour out on the earth the seven bowls of the wrath of God” (Revelation 16:1, NRSV). But the dragon also has wrath. After the dragon was thrown from heaven to the earth (Revelation 12:9), the warning is given, “Woe to the earth and the sea, for the devil has come down to you with great wrath, because he knows that his time is short” (Revelation 12:12, NRSV).

How can we fully understand what the word wrath means from these few verses? Is the wrath of the Lamb any different from the wrath of the dragon? Should we consult the dictionary? According to dictionary.com, wrath means:

1. Strong, stern or fierce anger; deeply resentful indignation; ire.

2. Vengeance or punishment as the consequence of anger.

If the dictionary is as far as we are willing to go in our search to understand the essence of God’s wrath, we will arrive at a very sad conclusion: God’s character must have a side that is “stern” and “fierce”; and he will approach those who reject him with “deeply resentful indignation, ire, vengeance or punishment as the consequence of anger.” While the dictionary might seem authoritative, Christ’s followers must ask the question: Did Jesus reveal God to be this way?

Even if the book of Revelation were our only resource, there are still hints that the Lamb’s wrath does not fit the description given in the dictionary. First of all, are lambs known for their “wrathful” nature? This description might work for other ferocious beasts, but who has ever witnessed the wrath of a gentle little lamb? I can imagine a scary movie with the title, “The Wrath of the Killer Crocodile”; but I just can’t imagine that Hollywood will ever produce a movie about the fierce vengeance of a lamb. The imagery doesn’t fit. In addition, the Lamb in Revelation is not merely a Lamb but a “slaughtered Lamb” (Revelation 5:6, 9, 12; 13:8). Is the designation “slaughtered Lamb” merely so that we can make the proper identification (“Oh, this symbol refers to Jesus”), or is it also meant to reveal something about the character of the Lamb? For some, there is a deep significance to the term slaughtered Lamb that is meant to suggest something about the character of the Lamb and that “its having been slaughtered is an essential part of its identity.”[1]

God, the ruler of the universe, has functionally defined his rule with this act in Jesus. Revelation’s Christology, like New Testament Christology generally, is not a response to the question, “Who is Jesus?” but “Who is God?” Jesus does not replace God here or anywhere else in Revelation. God rules, but God had definitively manifested his rule in Jesus, who turned out not to be the Lion who devoured our enemies but [rather] the Lamb who was slain.[2]

The fact that the Lamb is slaughtered reveals God’s methods and “the way God rules the world.”[3] “Christ and the saints conquer by dying; Satan and the powers of evil by physical force.”[4] God as a slaughtered Lamb means that God’s “omnipotence is not to be understood as the power of unlimited coercion, but as the power of infinite persuasion, the invincible power of self-negating, self-sacrificial love.”[5] Thus, even within the pages of Revelation, we are led to consider that the wrath of a lamb that would allow itself to be violently slaughtered must be different than that of the dragon.

Revelation also goes to great lengths to describe the distinguishing features of the contending powers. The Lamb is characterized as “Faithful and True” (Revelation 19:11, NRSV) and as one who noncoercively says, “I am standing at the door, knocking” (Revelation 3:20, NRSV). The Lamb is the groom who comes to marry his bride (Revelation 21:2) and who wipes away all her tears (Revelation 7:17).

The dragon, on the other hand, is painted in the darkest terms possible and is given the ominous titles “Death and Hades,” “the great dragon,” and “that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil [diabolos] and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world” (Revelation 6:8; 12:9, NRSV). Sigve Tonstad has noted that “the unpretentious word ‘mudslinger’ is a faithful translation of the Greek ‘diabolos’ and an apt description of the character.”[6] The dragon does not knock; he forcibly breaks the door down. “It forced the earth and all who live on it to worship the first beast…. The beast forced all the people…to have a mark placed on their right hands or on their forehead” (Revelation 13:12, 16, GNB). Even for his loyal subjects, the dragon wipes no tears but rather sends locusts that torture (Revelation 9:5).

If we had only the book of Revelation to understand the difference between God’s wrath and Satan’s wrath, there are strong clues that their wrath is of a very different nature. Fortunately, our Bible consists of more than one book. To really come to understand the true nature of God’s wrath, we need to consider every example that is given to us about what his wrath looks like in action and then to construct a model that incorporates all of the evidence.

God’s Wrath in the Books of Moses

An expression that runs through the entire Old Testament is again and again associated with God’s wrath or anger. This expression reaches its climax in the dying words of Jesus, originally a quote from Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” (Psalm 22:1, GNB). Many variations or translations of this have essentially the same meaning: Why have you forsaken me? Why have you given me up? Why have you handed me over?

Dozens of times, these expressions are used in the Old Testament in the context of God’s wrath or anger. This use is pervasive, redundant, and begins in the books of Moses:

My anger will flame up like fire and burn everything on earth. It will reach to the world below and consume the roots of the mountains. I will bring on them endless disasters and use all my arrows against them…. They fail to see why they were defeated; they cannot understand what happened. Why were a thousand defeated by one, and ten thousand by only two? The Lord, their God, had abandoned them; their mighty God had given them up. (Deuteronomy 32:22, 23, 29, 30, GNB, emphasis supplied).

When that happens, I will become angry with them; I will abandon them, and they will be destroyed. Many terrible disasters will come upon them, and then they will realize that these things are happening to them because I, their God, am no longer with them. (Deuteronomy 31:17, GNB, emphasis supplied).

The description is clear and concise: “I will become angry with them,” and the result is that “I will abandon them” and “I…am no longer with them.”

But what does this really mean? Superficially, this description might not convey the picture of a loving God. What kind of a father gets angry and then abandons his children? We need specific illustrations to see what this anger looks like. Thankfully, the Bible provides these for us in great numbers.

The Philistine Capture of the Covenant Box

During the time of the judges of Israel, God’s people continually abandoned him and suffered the horrible consequences of slavery at the hands of other nations. During the early years of the judge Samuel, the rebellious sons of Eli the high priest—Hophni and Phinehas—plotted with the people to bring the Ark of the Covenant to battle against the Philistines. This was not an act of faith in God to take care of them; rather, they were using the Covenant Box as a good-luck charm. God was not with them, and the Covenant Box was captured by the Philistines. When this story is told in Psalm 78, God is described as “angry”; but notice very carefully what God actually did:

They angered him with their heathen places of worship, and with their idols they made him furious. God was angry when he saw it, so he rejected his people completely. He abandoned his tent in Shiloh, the home where he had lived among us. He allowed our enemies to capture the Covenant Box, the symbol of his power and glory. (Psalm 78:58-61, GNB, emphasis supplied).

In this example we see that God’s anger was manifested as “abandoning” his people and “allowing” the Philistines to conquer them and to capture the Covenant Box.

God’s Wrath and the Assyrian Captivity

During the time of Solomon, Israel was a nation that was greatly admired. World leaders such as the Queen of Sheba traveled great distances to experience Solomon’s wisdom and to see the riches of Israel. But then everything fell apart. Solomon began to worship other gods, and when his son Rehoboam became king, the nation split. Israel now consisted of ten northern tribes, led first by Jeroboam and then by a succession of kings, all bad—some very bad. Meanwhile, Judah and the smaller tribe Benjamin joined together in the south, led by Rehoboam and then by a succession of kings that were sometimes loyal to God but frequently disloyal.

In the 200 years from Jeroboam to the Assyrian captivity, God sent prophet after prophet to Israel. For the most part, their messages were rejected; but God’s efforts to reach them seemed to intensify through the messages of Isaiah and Hosea. Finally, in order to make the startling point that God still loved his rebellious people, even in their unfaithfulness, God asked Hosea to marry a woman who would be unfaithful. He then asked Hosea to pursue her, even in her prostitution: “You must love her just as I still love the people of Israel” (Hosea 3:1, GNB).

It’s remarkable to consider that God, through the prophet Hosea, is pleading with his prostitute wife, Israel, to come home again. God was trying to reach hardened rebels, so he had no choice but also to speak loudly and in a language they could understand. We might be offended at some of God’s violent words that we are about to read in Hosea, but sometimes scary words are the only things that can reach a scary people: “The people of Israel are as stubborn as mules. How can I feed them like lambs in a meadow?” (Hosea 4:16, GNB). So God comes not only as a lover in Hosea but also as an angry lion prepared to attack:

I will attack the people of Israel and Judah like a lion. I myself will tear them to pieces and then leave them. When I drag them off, no one will be able to save them. I will abandon my people until they have suffered enough for their sins and come looking for me. Perhaps in their suffering they will try to find me. (Hosea 5:14, 15, GNB, emphasis supplied).

Does God really attack his people and tear them apart like an angry lion? That description was to get the attention of all the “stubborn mules.” If we take this passage as a whole, we see that God is warning his people that they are about to be abandoned and to suffer unspeakable consequences: “When I abandon these people, terrible things will happen to them” (Hosea 9:12, GNB). God is hoping that “perhaps in their suffering” and separation from him, they will see how foolish it was to leave his side and will then return to him.

But the ten northern tribes were taken into captivity, never to return.  To hear the tears in God’s voice as he watched his children abandon him is not difficult:

They insist on turning away from me. They will cry out because of the yoke that is on them, but not one will lift it from them. How can I give you up, Israel? How can I abandon you? (Hosea 11:7, 8, GNB, emphasis supplied).

In Israel’s sad story, we see the wrath of God in action, and, at the same time, we are allowed to glimpse the face of God. Is God’s face “stern or fierce” as he pours out his wrath? Hosea paints the picture of a God with tears on his face, saying, “How can I give you up, Israel? How can I abandon you?” The Message Bible concludes this passage: “I can’t bear to even think such thoughts. My insides churn in protest” (Hosea 11:8).

God’s Wrath and the Babylonian Captivity

Fewer than 200 years later, the people of Judah progressively rebelled just as Israel had done. Once again, God sent prophet after prophet to turn them back. Jeremiah, the weeping prophet, lived during this awful time leading up to the captivity; and he described the complete rebellion and distrust that Judah had for their God. Jeremiah tells us that the reason for Judah’s pain and suffering was not a direct punishment from God but because they had abandoned him and were reaping the consequences:

You have brought this on yourself by abandoning the LORD your God when he led you on his way…. Your own wickedness will correct you, and your unfaithful ways will punish you. You should know and see how evil and bitter it is for you if you abandon the LORD your God. (Jeremiah 2:17-19, GNB).

Judah, you have brought this on yourself by the way you have lived and by the things you have done. Your sin has caused this suffering; it has stabbed you through the heart. (Jeremiah 4:18, GNB, emphasis supplied).

Living apart from God has deadly consequences. Sin is inherently destructive. God’s methods of love and discipline had failed to keep his people from leaving his side. What was God to do? His people have told him to take a hike. Get lost. So his choice is really one of two things. He can either become the puppet master and say: “You were free to rebel to a certain point, but now I am taking control. You are no longer free. I am going to control your life, and you will obey.” Or, God can grant freedom to his people—freedom even to completely leave his side.

“The LORD says, ‘I have abandoned Israel; I have rejected my chosen nation. I have given the people I love into the power of their enemies’” (Jeremiah 12:7, GNB). The essence of God’s wrath is that he gives people the freedom to leave his side. God refuses to become the puppet master. But is this really the most loving thing for God to do?

Let’s say that someone wants to defy the law of gravity and jump off a cliff. Should God say: “No, you’re not free to experience that. I’ll suspend the law of gravity for you, and you’ll have a soft landing?” Or what about an individual who slowly begins to drink more alcohol? On his way to becoming an alcoholic, should God intervene by forcibly restricting his freedom to drink? Or at least, should God take away his freedom to drive? Or if God allows him to drive, should he ensure that if the man does have an accident, no one will be hurt? Or should God make sure that only “bad people” will be hurt when he drives under the influence? Do we prefer a God who would micromanage and manipulate the world in this way?

Let’s imagine God as he watches one of his children developing a warped picture that “god” is a severe and angry tyrant. God intervenes by every means possible in that individual’s life—he pulls out all the stops, as he always does—but should he override that person’s free will in order to prevent him or her from developing a satanic picture of God?

What if a certain man decides to act on his satanic picture of his god and actually comes to the conclusion that his god would be very pleased if he flew a plane loaded with passengers into one of the trade towers in New York? Should God limit his freedom and prevent him from acting on his warped picture of God? Or should God intervene and make sure that only bad people got on those planes on that day? While it might make human sense to do this, when and where would God stop intervening in the lives of humans? How would the universe be able to see that we are actually free? In this sinful world, freedom always has a price. This is the dilemma God faces every day. If God is really a God of freedom, he must allow the possibility that his children will reject him and make bad choices. To respect free will, God has no choice but to allow the natural consequences of leaving his side to occur—consequences that are devastating to everyone around them, including to those who are loyal to God.

As the people of Judah rejected the final message from God, the book of Jeremiah contains some of the clearest descriptions of God’s wrath in the entire Old Testament.

I will fight against you with all my might, my anger, my wrath, and my fury. I will kill everyone living in this city; people and animals alike will die of a terrible disease…. Anyone who stays in the city will be killed in war or by starvation or disease…. It will be given over to the king of Babylonia, and he will burn it to the ground. I, the LORD, have spoken. (Jeremiah 21:5, 6, 10, GNB, emphasis supplied).

Although God thunders that in his wrath, he will personally “kill everyone living in this city,” he then clarifies that “it will be given over” and that it is the king of Babylonia who will burn the city to the ground, not God.

The relationship between God’s anger and his abandoning the people cannot be overlooked in Jeremiah: “The LORD has abandoned his people like a lion that leaves its cave. The horrors of war and the LORD’s fierce anger have turned the country into a desert” (Jeremiah 25:38, GNB).

God’s “fierce anger” is his sadly abandoning his children, respecting their free will when they tell him to get lost. Although God said very clearly that in his anger he would punish and that he would burn the city down, the reality is that “I, the LORD, will hand this city over to the king of Babylonia, and he will burn it down (Jeremiah 34:2, GNB).

In the book of Lamentations, Jeremiah writes:

The Lord in his anger has covered Zion with darkness. Its heavenly splendor he has turned into ruins. On the day of his anger he abandoned even his temple…. Why have you abandoned us so long? Will you ever remember us again? Bring us back to you, LORD! Bring us back! Restore our ancient glory. Or have you rejected us forever? Is there no limit to your anger? (Lamentations 2:1, 5:20-22, GNB, emphasis supplied).

God’s wrath is intimately linked to human freedom and to his refusal to manipulatively control those who reject him. What we see in example after example in the history of Israel is God exhausting every resource to reach his people, until finally he could do no more than to grant their wish to follow other gods and to suffer the consequences. “Very well, then, I will give you freedom: the freedom to die by war, disease, and starvation” (Jeremiah 34:17, GNB).

Ezekiel also lived at the same time as Jeremiah and had the same message of warning to Jerusalem: “You will feel my anger when I turn it loose on you like a blazing fire…. And I will hand you over to brutal men, experts at destruction” (Ezekiel 21:31, GNB). God even warned that in his anger, he would kindle the fire and stoke the flames that burned Jerusalem down (Ezekiel 22:20-22). But once again, what actually happened? Did God really stoke the fire? Ezekiel goes on to clarify the true meaning of God’s anger, which is removal of protection from those who want God to leave them alone, “I will hand you over to other nations who will rob you and plunder you” (Ezekiel 25:7, GNB).

The historical record shows that God did not lay a hand on his people in the destruction of Jerusalem. God respected the free-will choice of his rebellious children and allowed them to suffer the consequences. The Babylonians, not God, burned down Jerusalem. “The king killed the young men of Judah even in the Temple. He had no mercy on anyone, young or old, man or woman, sick or healthy. God handed them all over to him” (2 Chronicles 36:17, GNB).

God’s Wrath in the Writings of Paul

Just as the Old Testament prophets link God’s wrath to the most devastating events of Israel’s history, such as the Assyrian and Babylonian captivities, so Paul associates God’s wrath with the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70. Jeremiah was known as the weeping prophet because he cried over the refusal of his people to turn to God. Likewise, Paul also wept over his people:

I am speaking the truth; I belong to Christ and I do not lie. My conscience, ruled by the Holy Spirit, also assures me that I am not lying when I say how great is my sorrow, how endless the pain in my heart for my people, my own flesh and blood! For their sake I could wish that I myself were under God’s curse and separated from Christ. (Romans 9:1-4, GNB).

But Paul wasn’t the only one who wept over the Jews. We considered how God, in the book of Hosea, wept over his people as they went into Assyrian captivity: “How can I give you up, Israel? How can I abandon you?” (Hosea 11:8, GNB). But it’s almost as if we have a difficult time believing that the Almighty One is the kind of Person who would cry over his lost children. So God put skin on and wept:

Jerusalem, Jerusalem! You kill the prophets and stone the messengers God has sent you! How many times I wanted to put my arms around all your people, just as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you would not let me! (Matthew 23:37, GNB).

God’s people had so hardened their hearts against him that they could even look him in the eyes and accuse him of being on the devil’s side (Matthew 12:24). God could do no more for them; so “in his anger,” he handed them over. Paul describes it like this: “In this way they have brought to completion all the sins they have always committed. And now God’s anger has at last come down on them!” (1 Thessalonians 2:14-16, GNB). Once again, though, we need to ask the question, “What actually happened?” Who destroyed Jerusalem in A.D. 70? The Romans (not God) burned down Jerusalem, yet it is described as an act of God’s anger.

I suppose that one could argue, “How do you know that this is what Paul had in mind when he spoke of God’s anger?” Paul opens the book of Romans by summarizing all of the Old Testament descriptions of God’s wrath that we have just considered. “God’s anger is revealed from heaven against all the sin and evil of the people whose evil ways prevent the truth from being known. God punishes them, because what can be known about God is plain to them, for God himself made it plain” (Romans 1:18, 19, GNB).

The subject of Romans 1 is God’s anger and the way in which God punishes. So that we don’t miss the point, three times Paul repeats the familiar Old Testament echoes on this subject:

They say they are wise, but they are fools; instead of worshiping the immortal God, they worship images made to look like mortals or birds or animals or reptiles. And so God has given those people over to do the filthy things their hearts desire, and they do shameful things with each other. They exchange the truth about God for a lie; they worship and serve what God has created instead of the Creator himself, who is to be praised forever! Amen. Because they do this, God has given them over to shameful passions…. Because those people refuse to keep in mind the true knowledge about God, he has given them over to corrupted minds, so that they do the things that they should not do.” (Romans 1:22-26, 28 GNB, emphasis supplied).

Paul is referring to and summarizing the meaning of all the Old Testament descriptions that associate God’s anger with “giving them over.”

The Wrath of the Lamb

We have seen that the Bible includes specific example after example that defines God’s wrath as handing over his children to the consequences of their foolish choices. Despite all of this, many still have a difficult time viewing sin as the destroyer and punisher and God as the Protector and Healer. Certainly, the vast majority of Christians view God as the destroyer and punisher in the final events of human history. Despite centuries of Christian tradition, the life and death of Christ provide us with the clearest picture of God’s wrath.

We are often taught that “Jesus took the punishment that should have been ours,” or that “Jesus took our sins upon himself.” Some say, “Jesus suffered the wrath of God so that I don’t have to.” If these words truly reflect reality, shouldn’t the death of Jesus provide us with the clearest evidence about how God is involved in the final death of sin and sinners? What really happened at the Cross, and how was the Father involved in Jesus’ death?

The prophet Isaiah explains that it was sin that punished Jesus, not the Father:

He was hated and rejected; his life was filled with sorrow and terrible suffering. No one wanted to look at him. We despised him and said, “He is a nobody!” He suffered and endured great pain for us, but we thought his suffering was punishment from God. He was wounded and crushed because of our sins; by taking our punishment, he made us completely well.” (Isaiah 53:1-5, CEV, emphasis supplied).

“We thought that his suffering was punishment from God.” Many have thought that the Father punished Jesus on the Cross, just as he will punish those in the end who will not listen to his voice. But Isaiah tells us that we were mistaken in our thinking and that sin is what punished Jesus, not God. Sin, by its very nature, causes separation between us and God—not because God leaves but because we leave.

Sin, which is a rebellious and distrustful attitude toward God, separates us from his loving and protecting arms and is intrinsically destructive. Sin pays the wage (Romans 6:23), not God and sin, when full grown, results in death (James 1:15).

The anguish and sorrow of Jesus that began in the Garden of Gethsemane culminated with the words, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” (Matthew 27:46, GW).

“Why have you given me up? Why have you handed me over? Why have you forsaken me?”

These very same words we have associated again and again with the separation of God from his rebellious children. The Father did not kill his Son at the Cross. At the Cross, we see the full result of separation that sin causes between us and our God. The Cross proves this to be true. Jesus Christ, who lived every moment in loving harmony with his Father, voluntarily experienced the sense of withdrawal from his Father’s protection—it was evil human and satanic forces, not the Father, that ravaged the Son of God.

We could correctly say that “the wrath of God fell upon Christ” if we understand that the biblical concept of God’s wrath is not punishment by God; rather, it is to be forsaken, abandoned, and given up. Paul concisely describes Jesus’ death in this way: “Because of our sins he was given over to die” (Romans 4:25, GNB).

The Cross should never make us afraid of the Father (the “God who killed his Son”). No! The One on the Cross was God in human form, showing us the horrifying nature of the sin problem. The Cross should make us afraid of sin, not God, for at the Cross, we not only see the goodness of our God, we also see the horror of the sin problem.

Another Look at God’s Wrath in Revelation

Although the description of God’s wrath as “handing over,” “giving up,” “abandoning,” and “forsaking” is so prevalent in the Bible, this view is not widely accepted today. When most Christians read about the “the anger of the Lamb” and the last plagues in Revelation that are “the final expression of God’s anger” (Revelation 6:16; 15:1, GNB), they understand this to mean that the final events in human history involve God actively inflicting punishments on the world. If we use the Bible as a whole on this subject, however, and if we keep fresh in our minds every description of God’s anger, we are prepared to understand the final events of human history in a different light.

Revelation describes a sad but recurring theme, of how virtually everyone turns away from God: “Everyone worshiped the dragon” (Revelation 13:4, GNB). Moses, David, Jeremiah, Hosea, Ezekiel, and Paul have all given us countless specific examples of what this looks like. And we have such a vivid demonstration of Jesus’ death and dying words.

Worth noting is that there is a significant difference between the final end of sin and sinners and the death of Jesus on the Cross. Jesus longed to see his Father’s face as he cried out, “Why have you abandoned me?” In contrast, the people who die in the end will not long to see God’s face. Their dying wish is to avoid God’s face as they plead, “Hide us from the eyes of the one who sits on the throne” (Revelation 6:16, GNB). God’s children will die, pleading to avoid seeing God’s face. At that very moment, what do you imagine God’s face would look like? For me personally, I see the anguished face of Jesus as he hung on the Cross, and I hear the crying words of a Father losing his child: “How can I give you up? How can I abandon you?” (Hosea 11:7, 8, GNB). God’s anger, viewed this way, demonstrates the perfection of our God, who is love personified. God is perfect in love, and his perfect love casts out all fear (1 John 4:18). Do we still fear? If so, then we should direct our fear toward the devastating consequences of sin and of cutting ourselves off from our loving Father and Savior. Never is there a reason to be afraid of God.

[1].  Loren L. Johns, The Lamb in the Rhetorical Program of the Apocalypse of John, SBL Seminar Papers 37 (1998), 2:780.

[2].  Eugene Boring, The Theology of Revelation (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1989), 266.

[3].  Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 64.

[4].  Anthony Hanson, The Wrath of the Lamb, (London, England: SPCK, 1957), 165.

[5].  C. B. Caird, The Revelation of Saint John (London, England: A. & C. Black, 1966), 75.

[6].  Sigve Tonstad, Saving God’s Reputation (London, England: T&T Clark International, 2006), 72.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

A Different Kind of Kingdom

GREGORY A. BOYD

MANY CHRISTIANS TODAY SEEM TO BE caught in a false dichotomy. They assume either that a person believes Christianity is concerned with transforming society—in which case, one must become a political activist; or that a person believes Christianity is only about “saving souls”—in which case, they leave larger societal problems for government to solve. I submit that this is a very dangerous false dichotomy. Jesus, whose example we are to follow, was certainly passionate about transforming society. Yet, as we’ll see later, he never showed the slightest interest in politics. Jesus instead had a distinctive way of engaging and transforming culture, and this distinctiveness manifests the unique beauty of the Kingdom he inaugurated.

In this chapter, it is my intent to flesh out Jesus’ unique and beautiful way of transforming society and to clarify why it has nothing to do with politics. Followers of Jesus are called to be radical social activists who place no trust in politics, governments, or nations to transform the world.

Revolting against the Social System

Many people fail to see that Jesus was a social activist because they don’t understand Jesus in his original social context.

If you heard of a white man offering his front-row seat on a bus to an African American woman, you’d probably think this was a nice gesture. But if you then learned that this happened in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1955, you’d immediately understand that this gesture went far beyond being merely nice. In the context of the Jim Crow South, this act was revolutionary. It revolted against the racist social system in which the man and the African American woman found themselves.

In the same way, many today view Jesus’ treatment of women, lepers, beggars, and non-Jews in the Gospels as merely nice because they fail to interpret them in light of Jesus’ own cultural context. If we understand Jesus’ actions against the backdrop of first-century Palestinian culture, however, it becomes clear that Jesus’ treatment of people went far beyond being nice. Almost every single aspect of his life, teachings, and ministry revolted against some unjust aspect of his culture.

For example, when Jesus set aside the riches of his divine prerogatives and sided with the poor and oppressed (2 Corinthians 8:9), he was revolting against a social system that economically privileged a few by oppressing the masses. When Jesus praised the faith of a Roman centurion and held up Samaritans (in explicit contrast with Jewish leaders!) as heroes in some of his illustrations, he was revolting against the racism of his day. The respectful way Jesus treated women—even women with disreputable histories—revolted against the sexism of his day. The dignifying way Jesus interacted with and identified with beggars and others on the fringe of society revolted against a social system that ascribed worth to people based on their class, wealth, and power. And the beautiful way Jesus befriended sinners, as well as the way in which he consistently violated inhuman religious rules (e.g., healing people on the Sabbath) revolted against the religious oppression of his day. Clearly, Jesus’ lifestyle wasn’t merely nice: it was revolutionary.

This revolutionary lifestyle got Jesus crucified, and this also tells us a great deal about the unique nature of Jesus’ revolt. Most Jews of Jesus’ day expected and wanted a Messiah who would support their patriotic convictions and lead them in a military uprising to overthrow the Romans who had been oppressing them for centuries. To everyone’s surprise—including some of his own disciples!—Jesus refused to play this role. Jesus never acquiesced to the patriotism of his day, and far from leading a military charge against Rome, Jesus allowed himself to be crucified.

This too—this especially—was an act of revolt on Jesus’ part. Jesus’ voluntary death revolted against a social system that encouraged people to kill others when it was in their self-interest or their nation’s interest to do so. Tragically, it’s the social system of almost every culture that has ever existed.

It’s crucial that we understand why Jesus lived a life of revolt. It wasn’t primarily to create a more just society, as laudable as this goal is. Rather, Jesus revolted against unjust, oppressive and violent aspects of the world because only by doing so could he manifest the reign of God.

As the Incarnate Son of God, Jesus perfectly embodied the Kingdom of God. Everything Jesus did and taught reflected his Father’s beautiful character and will. And this is why everything Jesus did and taught revolted against aspects of society that were inconsistent with his Father’s character and will. Jesus’ life and death demonstrate that it’s impossible to live under the reign of God and not be a social revolutionary.

Jesus’ Spiritual Revolt

There’s another even more important aspect of Jesus’ lifestyle of revolt that we will miss unless we understand Jesus in his first-century context. Jesus and the Kingdom movement he birthed were steeped in the apocalyptic worldview that was widely influential in first-century Judaism. In this worldview, the whole of creation, including every aspect of human society, was understood to be caught in the crossfire of an ongoing battle between cosmic forces of good and evil.[1] This apocalyptic perspective is reflected throughout the New Testament in a number of ways, including the unprecedented authority ascribed to Satan, the consistent depictions of illnesses and deformities as demonically caused, and the characterization of this epoch as evil and as soon approaching its end.[2]

In this apocalyptic worldview, all governments were understood ultimately to belong to Satan, the “god of this age,” who “controls the entire world” (Luke 4:5-7; 2 Corinthians 4:4; 1 John 5:19; cf. Revelation. 13). Other aspects of creation and society were viewed as being under the influence of cosmic powers, variously labeled as “rulers,” “principalities,” “powers,” “authorities,” “dominions,” “cosmic powers,” “thrones,” “spiritual forces,” “elemental spirits of the universe,” and “gods” (henceforth identified as “the Powers”).[3]

In the view of the earliest Jesus-followers, Jesus hadn’t come primarily to revolt against human systems that were not in line with God’s reign—though he certainly did that. He had come primarily to establish the Kingdom of God by overthrowing the Powers that undergird these ungodly systems. “The reason the Son of God appeared,” John says, “was to destroy the devil’s work” (1 John 3:8, NIV). The self-sacrificial love displayed on Calvary and the power of God displayed in Jesus’ resurrection broke “the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil” (Hebrews 2:14, NIV). In giving his life, Jesus “disarmed the powers and authorities” and “made a public spectacle of them” (Colossians 2:15, NIV). And when Jesus rose from the dead, “all things”—including God’s enemies—were placed “under his feet” (Hebrews 2:8), and he was seated “far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that can be invoked” (Ephesians 1:21; cf. Colossians 1:20).[4]

At the same time, Jesus’ death and resurrection simply culminated the driving motif of his entire life and ministry. Just as many aspects of Jesus’ life constituted a social revolt, so too many aspects of his life constituted a spiritual revolt. In fact, understood in its original first-century apocalyptic context, Jesus’ social and spiritual revolts must be understood as two sides of the same coin. Every act of revolt against oppressive, unjust, and dehumanizing aspects of social systems was at the same time an act of revolt against the Powers that fuel these ungodly dimensions of social systems. Jesus’ revolt against such things as greed and poverty, social oppression, sexism, racism, classism, nationalism, and violence was itself a form of spiritual warfare.[5] Jesus was a social and spiritual revolutionary, and he was the one because he was the other. He was, in short, a social-spiritual revolutionary.

Participating in the Political-Spiritual Revolution

According to the New Testament, all who profess Christ as Lord are called and empowered to imitate Jesus’ Kingdom lifestyle and therefore participate in his revolt against the Powers. While Jesus in principle defeated the Powers through his incarnation, life, death, resurrection, and ascension, his victory has not yet been manifested as a fully accomplished fact (Hebrews 2:8). Though Satan’s demise is certain, even after the resurrection and ascension, the New Testament authors affirm that he continues to reign as “the god of this age” and “the principality and power of the air” who “controls the entire world” (2 Corinthians 4:4; Ephesians 2:2; 1 John 5:19). Hence, even after the resurrection and ascension, Christians must struggle against the Powers (Ephesians 6:12). To borrow a helpful analogy from WWII, we live in the interval between “D-Day” and “V-Day”; and during this time, Jesus continues to fight the Powers through us, his corporate body.[6] And by this means, Jesus continues to grow the mustard seed of the social-spiritual revolution he inaugurated.

This is why the New Testament places such a strong emphasis on following Jesus’ example. Our calling is to manifest the same Kingdom and engage in the same countercultural, lifestyle warfare as Jesus did. “Whoever claims to live in him,” John says, “must live as Jesus did” (1 John 2:6). We are to “imitate God,” according to Paul, which means we are to “walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us” (Ephesians 5:1, 2, NIV). We are to follow Jesus’ example of humble, loving service to one another—even when we, like Jesus, know that those whose feet we are washing will soon betray us (John 13:15). So too, Peter instructs people facing persecution to follow Christ’s example of self-sacrificial love, even when they suffer unjustly (1 Peter 2:20, 21). We are to aspire to have every aspect of our life conformed to the image of Jesus Christ (e.g., Ephesians 4:17-27; 5:1, 2; Colossians 3:1-17).

Following Christ’s example and participating in the Kingdom of God requires that we live in revolt against the social systems of our culture, insofar as they are inconsistent with the reign of God—just as Jesus did. It therefore requires that we revolt against the Powers that fuel ungodly social systems, just as Jesus did. While we are to live in peace and submit to the laws of whatever country we find ourselves in, insofar as this is possible (Romans 13:1-7), we are commanded to “obey God rather than men” when the two come into conflict (Acts 5:29; cf. 4:19). We are to resist being conformed to the self-centered, power-oriented, violence-prone “pattern of the world” and instead seek to be transformed into the image of Christ, who voluntarily gave his life for his enemies out of love (Romans 12:2).

To live this way sets us in opposition to the Powers. Hence, followers of Jesus are to “take [our] stand against the devil’s schemes,” realizing that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:11, 12, NIV).[7] We are to see ourselves as soldiers in war, stationed behind enemy lines, whose job is to obey our Commanding Officer as he uses us to tear down enemy strongholds (2 Timothy 2:4; 2 Corinthians 10:3-5).

In short, followers of Jesus are called and empowered to individually and corporately manifest the beautiful reign of God, just as Jesus did, and to therefore live as social-spiritual revolutionaries, just as Jesus did. Our lifestyle is to manifest God’s reign and revolt against greed and poverty, social oppression, sexism, racism, classism, nationalism, violence, and every other aspect of society that conflicts with God’s loving reign. And in living this way, we are to understand that we are engaging in spiritual warfare.

An Antipolitical Social Activist

Considering how important it is to follow Jesus’ example in all things, it’s crucial that we not only notice that Jesus was a social-spiritual revolutionary but how he was a social-spiritual revolutionary. And here is where the false dichotomy that characterizes many people’s thinking about the relationship between faith, politics, and social activism gets exposed.

As has already been stated, while Jesus was a radical social revolutionary, he never showed the slightest interest in politics.[8] Neither did any of his earliest followers. The only instructions Christians are given vis-à-vis government in the New Testament is to respect and submit to authorities as much as possible, to pay our taxes, and to pray for leaders so there will be peace (Mark 12:13-17; Romans 13:1-7; 1 Peter 2:13-17). And even these instructions are not given out of any concern for how government should run but simply to facilitate the spreading of the Gospel.

This complete lack of political interest is particularly surprising when we remember that Jesus entered the world in politically hot times and consciously embraced the role of “Messiah.”[9] There was a litany of political controversies with which first-century Jews wrestled, centered mostly on how they should respond to Roman oppression. Not only this, but as noted above, many Jews were looking for a political, militant, and nationalistic Messiah who would resolve all these political controversies and ultimately free the Jewish people from their Roman oppressors.

Not surprisingly, as Jesus’ fame as a teacher, healer, and exorcist began to spread, fellow Jews repeatedly tried to fit him into their expectations for a prophet or Messiah and to get him to weigh in on these hot political topics. But without exception, Jesus refused even to comment on these issues. Jesus responded to them, but never on the terms their questions set. He consistently found a way of transforming their questions to him regarding the kingdom of the world into his questions toward them about the Kingdom of God.

For example, at one point in his ministry, some opponents tried to get Jesus to weigh in on the divisive topic of whether or not Jews should obey the law of the land and support the oppressive Roman government by paying taxes. Jesus neither ignored nor obliged the question. Instead, he simply held up a coin and asked, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” It was, of course, the emperor’s. So, Jesus concluded, “Give…to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and [give] to God the things that are God’s” (Matthew 22:20-22, NIV).

Throughout history, religious leaders have cited these words to support their contention that Christians have a duty to their government—to be good citizens, to vote, to serve in office, and even, according to some, to fight for their nation. If we understand Jesus’ clever response in its original context, however, his teaching implies nothing of the sort.

Most first-century Jews were deeply offended by currency that bore the image of the emperor. They saw it not only as egotistical on the part of the emperor, but also as a direct violation of the commandment against making images (Exodus 20:4; Leviticus 26:1).[10] They understood that only God can make an image of himself, and he did so when he made humans (Genesis 1:26, 27). In responding to his audience, Jesus was brilliantly linking the issue of pagan egotism and idolatry with the issue of paying taxes. He was in essence saying, “Since this piece of idolatrous metal bears the emperor’s image, it obviously belongs to him. Why should we Jews who know that this metal is idolatrous and belongs to Caesar bicker about how much we are supposed to keep? Our only concern should be with making sure we are giving to God that which bears his image—namely, our whole being.” In this way, Jesus wisely transformed a question pertaining to the reign of Caesar into a question that pertained to the reign of God.

This and other episodes make it clear that Jesus did not come to answer our political questions or give us a “new and improved” version of the kingdoms of the world. Rather, he came to raise a radically different set of questions and establish a radically different kind of Kingdom. He came to plant the mustard seed of a new, alternative world order under the reign of God that would render all the “power-over” type kingdoms of the world obsolete.[11]

A Kingdom That Is Not of This World

The unique way Jesus was a social-spiritual revolutionary, we see, was rooted in his preserving the contrast between the Kingdom he came to establish and the reigning kingdoms of the world. To appreciate fully the importance of Jesus’ unique way of revolting, we have to fully appreciate how absolute is this contrast.

This contrast was put on center stage when Jesus was on trial. Pilate asked him if he was the king of the Jews (John 18:33), to which he replied: “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders” (John 18:36, NIV). Jesus informed Pilate that the domain over which he was king was nothing like the power-over governments of the world—it was on a completely different plane and from “another place” (John 18:36). And then, most significantly, he substantiated his claim by drawing Pilate’s attention to the fact that his servants were not fighting in his defense.

The most fundamental feature of earthly governments is that they are willing to use whatever force is necessary to protect and advance their self-interests. As Jacque Ellul has insightfully argued, violence is intrinsic to all power-over systems. Governments, states, and nations cannot exist in this fallen world without the use of violence.[12] Any government that tried to love, bless, and serve threatening enemies rather than retaliate against them would not survive long. This is precisely why Jesus appealed to the absence of violence among those who were citizens of his Kingdom as proof that his Kingdom was completely different from the kingdoms of the world. Rather than using a sword against enemies to defend and advance its cause, the Kingdom “that is not of this world” relies on self-sacrificial love to advance its cause.

Jesus poignantly illustrated this point just hours before his discussion with Pilate. As Jesus was in the process of being arrested, Peter took out his sword to defend him and ended up cutting off a guard’s ear. Jesus rebuked Peter and then demonstrated the unique way warfare was to be done under the reign of God. He demonstrated God’s love for his enemy and served his enemy by miraculously reattaching his ear (Luke 22:50, 51). Nothing could more fundamentally contradict the defining feature of the self-centered, power-oriented, violence-prone kingdoms of the world than a response such as this to a threatening enemy.

Yet, the point was even more forcefully illustrated just hours after Jesus’ discussion with Pilate. Rather than using the power that was available to him to defend himself and crush his enemies, Jesus waged a unique kind of war, by allowing himself to be mocked, tortured, and killed by his enemies. He offered himself up out of love for his enemies and on behalf of his enemies. By refusing to hate and retaliate, even though he obviously would have been justified in doing so, Jesus was assailing and overthrowing the Powers that fuel the self-centered, power-oriented, violence-prone kingdoms of the world. And he was demonstrating that in the Kingdom he was inaugurating, warfare is never waged against flesh and blood. Rather, it is waged against the Powers and on behalf of flesh and blood. Therefore, it is never carried out by the power of a sword but by the power of self-sacrificial love in service to others—including one’s enemies.

Contrasting Foundations

Clearly, Jesus was not overstating matters when he said that his Kingdom was not of this world. But the contrast between the Kingdom Jesus represented and all versions of the kingdom of the world goes even deeper than this. While love for enemies and the refusal to use violence is the most visible way the Kingdom of God differs from worldly kingdoms, this contrast is actually merely a by-product of even more foundational points of contrast. We may at present mention three.

First, while all human governments in this fallen world are premised on rebellion against God, the Kingdom of God is premised on submission to God. As was noted above, the most fundamental feature of human governments is their willingness to use whatever force is necessary to protect and advance their national self-interests. Their very existence is predicated on citizens trusting political and military leaders to carry out this task.

When Israel called for this kind of worldly security to be like other nations, however, God said his people were rejecting him (1 Samuel 8:7, 19, 20). God’s original dream for humans—illustrated initially in the microcosm of his chosen people—was for God himself to reign over all humanity while humans reigned over the earth and animal kingdom (Genesis 1:26-28).

This is the dream realized in the Kingdom of God. While citizens outside the Kingdom strive to rule over one another, Jesus said it was not to be so among citizens of God’s Kingdom (Mark 10:42-45). Having died to the fallen need to protect and advance our personal or national self-interests, we are free to seek first the Kingdom of God and trust that God will provide all the security we need (Matthew 6:26-34).

Closely related to this, while all human governments in this fallen world are premised on people pledging allegiance to nationalistic ideals and the structures that express and protect them, the Kingdom of God is premised on people pledging allegiance to God alone. Knowing we cannot serve two masters (Matthew 6:24), and remembering that the Lord we have pledged ourselves to is Lord over all the nations and the Lord who gave his life for all people, we are freed from the curse of Babel, which divides people up according to tribes and nations. As citizens of “heaven” (Philemon 3:20) who are wholeheartedly submitted to the Kingdom of God (Matthew 6:33), we are called to live as “aliens and strangers” in whatever country we happen to find ourselves (1 Peter 2:11).[13] Like soldiers stationed in a foreign country, we are never to become too preoccupied with the “civilian affairs” of the region but are instead to focus on pleasing our “commanding officer” (2 Timothy 2:4).

Finally, and most fundamentally, all human governments in this fallen world are under the strong influence of Satan, the “ruler” of the world and “god of this age” (John 12:31; 14:32; 16:11; 2 Corinthians 4:4; cf. Luke 4:5-7; Ephesians 2:2; 1 John 5:19). The world’s governments are together the beast and Babylon—the political wing of Satan’s empire that deceives the world.[14] By contrast, the Kingdom Jesus planted is premised on the truth that Jesus has in principle vanquished this ruler and set people free to live under God’s reign, as God always intended. We are called to have confidence that the sovereign God, for whom all the nations and militaries of the world are “less than nothing” and “worthless” (Isaiah 40:5, 17), orchestrates these governments to carry out as much justice as possible (Romans 13:1-7).[15]

Yet, our unique call is to manifest faithfully a Kingdom that does not at all resemble any of these kingdoms, precisely because the citizens of this Kingdom have been freed from the rebellion, allegiances, and Powers that undergird these kingdoms. And for these same reasons, the citizens of this Kingdom have been freed to imitate Jesus in waging a war of self-sacrificial, Calvary-like love on behalf of others and against the Powers, rather than a war of violence against others on behalf of the Powers.

Are We Embodying the Contrast?

For Jesus, everything depends on preserving the absolute contrast between the beautiful Kingdom he came to establish and the Power-oppressed social systems of the world. He unleashed an utterly unique social-spiritual revolution by embodying this contrast. We who have pledged our life to Christ are called to do the same.

How are we doing in embodying this contrast? While there is a growing movement of people in America and around the globe who are becoming captivated by the New Testament’s vision of the Kingdom, all indications are that, for the American church as a whole, we aren’t doing very well. A number of studies have recently demonstrated there is very little difference between the core values and lifestyle of professing Christians and non-Christians in America.[16]

For example, though our standard of living is four times the global average, and though Christ calls us to revolt against greed and poverty by living self-sacrificial lives in solidarity with the poor, average American Christians spend just under 97 percent of their income on themselves—which is almost identical to what non-Christians spend on themselves.[17] And despite the fact that Christ calls us to revolt against racism and classism, manifesting a Kingdom in which there is a sharing of resources—such that the command of God to Israel that “there shall be no poor among you” (Deuteronomy 15:4) is finally fulfilled (cf. Acts 2:44, 45)—the American Church continues to be more deeply divided by race and class lines than the broader culture.[18]

Along the same lines, while Christ calls us to be known by our exceptional self-sacrificial love and humility, evangelical Christians are widely disdained in the broader American culture for their judgmentalism and arrogance.[19] And despite the fact that Christ calls us to engage in warfare by loving and serving enemies rather than engaging in violence against them, American Christians are as prone to aggression and tend to be even more supportive of the United States military than their non-Christian neighbors. Indeed, a recent poll conducted by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life revealed that Christians were significantly more in favor of torture than others.[20] Today in America, it does not seem that Jesus could appeal to his servants’ unwillingness to use violence as evidence that his Kingdom is not of this world.[21]

In short, all indications are that American Christians tend to be as defined by the values, attitudes, and behavior patterns of the American empire as are non-Christians.[22] For a people who are called to bear witness to God’s beautiful reign by how our lives contrast with the broader culture, this state of affairs has to be regarded as nothing short of catastrophic!

What makes this situation even worse, however, is that American Christians on the whole do not seem to view worldly government the way Jesus and the New Testament authors did. Indeed, as with all other aspects of the culture, all indications are that American evangelicals are at least as invested in the politics of Caesar as are non-Christians. We are not, on the whole, acting as if our only allegiance is to our King and his Kingdom. We are not behaving as if we are aliens and strangers in this land or soldiers stationed behind enemy lines. In contradiction to Paul’s mandate, we seem to be quite preoccupied with “civilian affairs.”

In fact, while we are, as a whole, not uniting to transform the culture by manifesting a contrasting Kingdom, we are also significantly divided over how to transform the culture by participating in Caesars’ kingdom. Christian leaders on the “right” work feverishly to rally the faithful around one set of political issues, while Christian leaders on the “left” do the same for another set of political issues. People on both sides sincerely believe we can further the Kingdom of God if we just get the “right” candidate in office, pass the “right” policies, and get people to be concerned with the “right” issues. Indeed, overlooking the massive ambiguity of political issues in a pluralistic culture, people on both sides sometimes claim to espouse not just the “right” politics but God’s politics. So both sides call on believers to vote their “faith and values”—implying that fellow believers who disagree with them clearly are not voting in line with Christian faith and values.[23]

In all of this, we are failing to keep the Kingdom “holy,” set apart, distinct, and consecrated. We are fusing the Cross with the assumed rightness and moral superiority of our political perspectives.[24]

The time has come for followers of Jesus to wake up to the ways we’ve been deluded by politics and nationalism and recover the unique, humble, and beautiful way of transforming the world that Jesus embodied. Our job is not to fix Caesar or come up with the wisest and best form of the kingdom of the world. Our faith in Jesus gives us no special wisdom about such matters. Rather, our one and only job is to manifest the beauty of God’s will and character—the Kingdom of God—and therefore revolt against the Powers that fuel all ungodly aspects of society. We are to change the world by how we vote thousands of times a day, with every decision we make—not by how we vote (if we choose to vote) every two-to-four years in a voting booth.

Individually and collectively, our call is to manifest every day of our life the humble, servant Kingdom of God that transforms the world through self-sacrificial love, not through the use of laws, bombs, or bullets.

[1].  For helpful introductions to Jewish apocalyptic thought (including its historical precursors and essential elements) see J. J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998) and N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 1992), especially 280-299.

[2].  On infirmities as being demonically caused, see G. Boyd, God at War: The Bible and Spiritual Conflict (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1997), ch. 6.

[3].  See, e.g., Romans 8:38; 13:1; 1 Corinthians 2:6, 8; 8:5; 15:24; 2 Corinthians 4:4; Ephesians 1:21; 2:2; 3:10; 6:12; Colossians 1:16; 2:8, 10, 15, 20; Galatians 4:3, 8, 9; 2 Corinthians 4:4. On the socio-political dimension of the Powers, see W. Wink, Naming the Powers: The Language of Power in the New Testament (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress, 1984). On issues related to the Powers, see also G. Boyd, God at War, esp. 269-276; M. J. Dawn, Powers, Weakness, and the Tabernacling of God (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001), ch. 1; H. Schlier, Principalities and Powers in the New Testament (New York, NY: Herder & Herder, 1961); A. H. van den Heuvel, These Rebellious Powers (New York, NY: Friendship, 1965); H. Berkhof, Christ and the Powers, tran. J. H. Yoder (Scottdale, PA: Herald, 1962); W. Stringfellow, Free in Obedience (New York, NY: Seabury, 1964); idem, An Ethic for Christians and Other Aliens in a Strange Land (Waco, TX: Word, 1973). Unfortunately, many contemporary scholars demythologize the Powers, interpreting them to be nothing more than spiritual dimensions to sociopolitical systems. I have elsewhere argued that this move is biblically unwarranted and theologically unfortunate; see God at War, 273-276.

[4].  For expositions of the Christus Victor motif in the New Testament, see G. Boyd, “The Christus Victor View,” in J. Beilby and P. R. Eddy, eds., The Nature of the Atonement: Four Views (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2006), 23-49; and Boyd, God at War, ch.8.

[5].  For a full development of this thesis, see G. Boyd, The Myth of a Christian Religion: Losing Your Religion for the Beauty of a Revolution (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2009).

[6].  This now-classic analogy was first offered by Oscar Cullmann in his book Christ and Time: The Primitive Christian Conception of Time and History, rev. ed. trans. F. V. Filson (Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1964 [1950]), 84-88.

[7].  For an excellent treatment of Ephesians 6, emphasizing that the battle is against the Powers, not against people, see T. Yoder Neufelt, “Put on the Armour of God”: The Divine Warrior from Isaiah to Ephesians (Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997).

[8].  Jesus was “political” in the sense that his life and death had implications for the polis (society), but not in the sense that he had any interest in participating in politics as a way of impacting the polis.

[9].  Through much of the twentieth century, many critical New Testament scholars have rejected the traditional claim that Jesus embraced the role of Messiah. For cogent defenses (from different perspectives) of Jesus’ messianic self-consciousness—though with a decidedly modified conception of the Messiah vis-à-vis the cultural expectations of his day—see N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 1996), 477-539; M. Hengel, “Jesus, the Messiah of Israel,” in Studies in Early Christology (Edinburgh, Scotland: Clark, 1995), 1-72; and P. R. Eddy’s contribution to the forthcoming volume, R. B. Stewart, ed., Memories of Jesus: A Critical Assessment of James D. G. Dunn’s Quest of the Historical Jesus (Nashville, TN: B&H Academic).

[10].  In some regions the Jewish outrage against coins bearing the emperor’s image was so great that the government minted special coins without this image. I, along with P. R. Eddy, have discussed this phenomenon in The Jesus Legend: A Case for the Historical Reliability of the Synoptic Jesus Tradition (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007), 109, 112, 118, 19.

[11].  For an extended discussion of the important difference between Jesus’ consistent “power-under” tactic of self-sacrificial agape love, as opposed to the world’s consistent “power-over” others tactics, see G. A. Boyd, The Myth of a Christian Nation: How the Quest for Political Power Is Destroying the Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005), 14, 17-49.

[12].  See J. Ellul, Violence: Reflections From a Christian Perspective (New York, NY: Seabury, 1969).

[13].  For an excellent exposition of this motif as central to living in the way of Jesus, see S. Hauerwas and W. Willimon, Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony (Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1989). For an insightful reflection on God’s perspective on earthly governments and the Christian’s freedom from them, see J. Ellul, Anarchy and Christianity, trans. G. W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991).

[14].  See Revelation 13; 14:8; 17:5; 18. As A. R. Gwyther notes: “Revelation was addressed to a circle of Christian communities in the midst of a culture satisfied with the ideology of the Roman Empire. It called them to cease their cooperation with the Empire. In response to this crisis the book of Revelation sought to counter both the myth and praxis of Empire.” Gwyther, New Jerusalem versus Babylon: Reading the Book of Revelation As a Text of a Circle of Counter-Imperial Christian Communities in the First-Century Roman Empire, Ph.D. dissertation (Griffith University, 1999), iii. Gwyther goes on to point out that the terms associated with “the beast” (e.g., power, a throne, great authority) are “drawn from the semantic field of imperial political rule” (108). On the beast and Babylon as representing worldly government under the power of Satan, see also J. Ellul, Apocalypse: The Book of Revelation, trans. G. W. Schreiner (New York, NY: Seabury, 1977). For some prophetic insights on America as a contemporary Babylon, see William Stringfellow, An Ethic for Christians (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2004), 33.

[15].  Paul says: “The authorities that exist have been established (tetagmenai eisin) by God” (Romans 13:1). The phrase includes the periphrastic perfect passive of tassō and denotes God ordering governments as he finds them to carry out his will as much as possible. It does not entail that governments as they are necessarily reflect God’s will—as though Hitler and Stalin were doing what God wanted them to do!

[16].  See “A New Generation of Adults Bends Moral and Sexual Rules to Their Liking,” The Barna Update (Oct. 31, 2006), available at <http://www.barna.org/FlexPage.aspx?Page=BarnaUpdate&BarnaUpdateID=249> (accessed on 8-23-08). See also “Faith Has a Limited Effect on Most People’s Behavior,” The Barna Update (May 24, 2004), available at <http://www.barnaorg/FlexPage.aspx?Page=BarnaUpdate&BarnaUpdateID=164> (accessed 8-23-08).

[17].  For an in-depth study revealing that in America, religious faith often has no real influence upon economic behavior, see R. Wuthnow, God and Mammon in America (New York, NY: Free, 1998).

[18].  See M. O. Emerson, and C. Smith. Divided By Faith: Evangelical Religion and the Problem of Race in America (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2000); P. Metzger, Consuming Jesus: Beyond Race and Class Divisions in the Consumer Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2007).

[19].  See D. Kinnaman and G. Lyons, Unchristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks About Christianity…and Why It Matters (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2007); D. Kimball, They Like Jesus But Not the Church: Insights From Emerging Generations (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2007); G. Boyd, Repenting of Religion: Turning From Judgment to the Love of God (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2004).

[20].  See <http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/04/30/religion.torture/index. html?iref=mpstoryview> (accessed May 13, 2009).

[21].  For example, on the high level of evangelical Christian support for the Iraq war, see E. Cole, “Most Evangelical Leaders Still Support Iraq War,” The Christian Post (Feb. 12, 2008); online at <http://www.christianpost.com/article/20080212/most-evangelical-leaders-still-support-iraq-war.htm> (accessed 8-23-08); J. Lobe, “Conservative Christians in U.S. Biggest Backers of War in Iraq,” Inter Press Service (Oct. 10, 2002), available at <http://www.twnside.org.sg/title/2414.htm> (accessed 8-23-08).

[22].  This is evidenced in many other ways, as well. For example, all indications are that there is little difference between Christians and non-Christians when it comes to premarital sex, the use of pornography, and the frequency of marriages ending in divorce. See J. Lapman, “Churches Confront an ‘Elephant in the Pew,’” Christian Science Monitor (Aug. 25, 2005), available at <http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0825/p14s01-lire.htm> (accessed 8-23-08); “The Leadership Survey on Pastors and Internet Pornography” (Jan. 1, 2001), available at <http://ctlibrary.com/le/2001/winter/12.89.html> (accessed 8-23-08); “Born Again Christians Just As Likely to Divorce,” The Barna Update (Sept. 8, 2004), available at <http://www.barna.org/FlexPage.aspx?Page=BarnaUpdate&BarnaUpdateID=170> (accessed 8-23-08).

[23].  The propagandistic slogan, “vote your faith and values,” has always baffled me. It seems to me every person who takes their vote at all seriously – including the atheist – already votes in accordance with their faith and values. There is simply no other plausible way to vote.

[24].  For a full exposition of how the evangelical church has failed to preserve the holiness of the Kingdom by allowing it to become politicized, see Boyd, Myth of a Christian Nation: How the Quest for Political Power is Destroying the Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1006).

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Prayer Is Friendship with God

Cherilyn Clough

MY HEART SANK WHEN I SAW the missing screen. My husband and I had just returned home to discover that our favorite cat had vanished through an open window. We often pray for God’s protection for our home and cats; but this time, it seemed as if God had fallen asleep on his shift. We continued to pray for several days, but he never returned. One morning I saw a headline that gave our pain some perspective—a father comforting his children who had suddenly lost their mother. Even though it was not God’s plan for us to lose our favorite cat or for this family to lose their mother, there comes a time when we are left wondering why God is silent. This void is where many question the effectiveness of prayer.

While losing his wife to cancer, C. S. Lewis once said: “I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time—waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God—it changes me.”[1] Lewis describes the essence of a deep friendship, where his need to talk with God is more than a plea for his own will; it is simply as necessary as talking to his best friend. While he’s right that prayer changes the one who prays, the Bible also describes an interactive component to prayer. In the cosmic conflict between good and evil, prayer is more than meditation or heaven’s request box; it bonds us to our Creator and aligns us with God’s Kingdom so that his will can be realized in our lives and the lives of those around us.

Why Do We Avoid Talking with God?

God’s plan was not for us to have a long-distance relationship with him. Adam and Eve were designed for face-to-face relationship with God. The Bible describes a God who took such care to design our innermost parts (Psalm 139) that he counts the hairs on our head (Matthew 10:30), keeps our tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8, 9), and takes such joy in our existence that he sings over us (Zephaniah 3:17). His attention to the intricate details of every human life reveals the depth of intimacy that God yearns to have with each of us. The tragedy of the human condition is that while we were designed to share our hearts with God and each other, sin has caused barriers that block us from talking with God.

The most obvious barrier to our relationship with God is that we can’t see him. This lack of visibility has caused some people to question whether God even exists. To visit when we can’t see his face is difficult—it’s like talking to the sky. Jesus, as God in human flesh, came to show us the way back into a face-to-face relationship with himself and the Father. The example of his life on earth reassures us that communication is possible, even when we cannot see God. Although Jesus had spent eternity face-to-face with the Father, when he became human, he laid aside his God privileges and spoke to the Father exactly as we can—through prayer (John 17; Luke 6:12; Luke 9:27-29; Luke 22:39-41).

If only our first parents had never sinned, none of us would be talking to an invisible God today. When God called out Adam and Eve’s names in the Garden of Eden, he was as loving and kind as when he created them; but sin had caused them to feel separated from him (Genesis 3:9, 10). Our own sins have caused us to be afraid of God. The devil exploits our situation by reminding us of our sins and planting the thought that God is angry with us (Revelation 12:9, 10), but the good news is that Jesus came to destroy the devil’s work (1 John 3:8). Part of Christ’s mission was to reveal how God treats sinners. The woman sneaking down to the well in the middle of the day to avoid the village gossip had something to hide. When Jesus called her out on her secrets, he did it with such kindness that she ran back to her village shouting, “Here is a man who told me everything I ever did!” (John 4:18, 29). Another woman, caught in adultery and thrown down in front of Jesus, must have been shocked to hear the words, “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more” (John 8:3-11). The way Jesus treated people while he was on earth is the same way he would treat us if we saw him face to face today. His character reveals that even our darkest secrets are safe with God.

God’s grace toward sinners also extends to those who are currently sinning or about to sin. This includes all of us, as “the human heart is deceitful above all things” (Jeremiah 17:9). While Jesus was washing the feet of Peter and Judas, he warned them of what they were about to do, yet they both betrayed him anyway. Judas, in plotting against his Savior, found that Jesus did not expose his plans (John 13:29). Peter discovered things that he didn’t like about himself, yet he trusted Jesus to love him despite his own failures. This is our continuing dilemma today—will we trust God with our sinfulness?

The Psalms chronicle David’s candid prayers to God about his fears, enemies, and regrets about past sins. After committing adultery with Bathsheba and orchestrating the murder of her husband, David asked God: “Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions and my sin is ever before me” (Psalm 51:2, 3, ESV). When David spoke to God about hating his enemies, he prayed: “Examine me, O God, and know my mind. Test me, and know my thoughts. See whether I am on an evil path. Then lead me on the everlasting path” (Psalm 139:23, 24, GW). Only when we “get real” and tell God how much we desperately crave that brownie, drug, pornography, or revenge against our enemy can we begin the healing process, because God cannot heal or change what we refuse to acknowledge. Our only hope for overcoming our fear and shame is through honest conversations with God. No matter what we have done, whenever we feel sinful and afraid, that’s when we need to pray the most.

What Prayer Is Not

People label as prayer a host of behaviors that are completely foreign to the way Jesus taught us to pray. The enemy plots to keep us focused on rituals and self-preservation, to divert us from actually talking with God; so it’s important for us to realize what prayer is not.

Prayer is not a repetitive ritual. During one miserably hot thunderstorm, my normally sane neighbors cooled down by soaking their feet in their children’s wading pool. Hoping to protect themselves from being struck by lightning, they chanted phrases over and over. While some people might find such repetition comforting, I doubt such behavior would protect anyone. Consider how your friends might react if you called them up and repeated the same words over and over. By demonstrating that prayer is an actual conversation with God, Jesus showed us how to pray.

Prayer is not some sort of reverse curse. Reality shows on TV often portray people who expect God to favor them over the other contestants because they are Christian. They sometimes do all sorts of unkind things to their competitors, while they ask God to bless them for their own selfish gain. They might be using God’s name, but such selfish behavior is contrary to praying in the name and spirit of Jesus.

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Prayer is not a magical potion that can be bought. God’s power is not for sale. Simon the sorcerer was turned away, because he wanted to buy the power of the Holy Spirit (Acts 8:17-21). No magic formulas exist for a miracle; and no recipes for answered prayer are available either, outside of an honest relationship with God.

Prayer is not a wish list. Just handing God a list of our wants, as if we are writing a letter to Santa, is not prayer. Of course, Jesus did tell us that it’s OK to ask God for help to supply our needs; but God’s greatest desire is to give us his Spirit, not to fulfill a Christmas list (Luke 11:13).

Prayer is not babbling. Eugene Peterson expressed it well in his paraphrase of Matthew 6:

Here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace. The world is full of so-called prayer warriors who are prayer-ignorant. They’re full of formulas and programs and advice, peddling techniques for getting what you want from God. Don’t fall for that nonsense. This is your Father you are dealing with, and he knows better than you what you need. (Matthew 6:6-8, MSG).

Prayer is not bargaining with God. If we think we can manipulate God’s love for us in any way through good works or good words, we need to remember that God will never love us any more or less because of anything we say or do. Bargaining causes us to imagine that promises made to God can be exchanged for answers to prayer. The Bible tells the story of Jephthah going into battle and asking for God’s blessing in exchange for a burnt offering. He promised to sacrifice the first thing he saw coming through the doors of his estate when he got home, not realizing that his only daughter would be the first to run out to greet him. Did God ask Jephthah to offer his daughter as a burnt offering? No, but sadly, his daughter paid the price for her father’s frivolous bargaining with God (Judges 11:30-40). Jesus taught that we should not make vows (Matthew 5:33, 34), and James admonishes us not to swear—not by heaven, nor by earth, nor by anything else (James 5:12). When we embellish our prayers with manipulative words, hoping to get our own way, we are simply trying to pressure God to give us what we want. These so-called oaths actually inhibit us from trusting God.

God craves authentic, heartfelt dialogue with each of us; but he continues to meet us wherever we are in our understanding of him. Even when our choices are not ideal, God still respects our choices and comes only as close as we invite him to come. Whenever we draw close to God, he will come close to us (James 4:8).

Prayer Is Talking with God As a Friend

Many of us have experienced a one-sided conversation with God because we have been taught from childhood to think of prayer as a list or rhyme to rattle off before we go to bed. Two sides exist to every conversation; while God is always willing to listen to us, he also longs for us to hear what he has to say. God speaks through many avenues, including the Bible, nature, counsel from Spirit-filled friends, and inspired thoughts and ideas that further his Kingdom in our lives. The Bible is full of stories describing the many ways that God relates to humanity. Jesus, as “God with skin on,” is the ultimate revelation of God (Hebrews 1:3). Since Jesus is the Truth, the Life, and the Way, we should evaluate every message, including biblical interpretations and impressions, through the lens of his life and teachings. It brings clarity to our prayer life when we talk with the One whom “we have heard” and “we have seen” (1 John 1:1, GNB). As we listen with a sincere heart to the One who became flesh and blood for us, we hear his voice and enjoy the privilege of responding with our own personal thoughts. This unique and interactive relationship with God is watered by our faith and the influence of God’s Spirit.

God, as our best friend, is not interested in a master-servant relationship but offers and desires true friendship. Jesus told his disciples: “I do not call you servants any longer, because servants do not know what their master is doing. Instead, I call you friends, because I have told you everything I heard from my Father” (John 15:15, GNB).

Jesus Lived a Prayer-filled Life

Jesus’ habit was to spend much of the night in prayer (Luke 6:12; 9:27-29; 22:39-41), sharing his human struggles and emotions with his Father. “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission” (Hebrews 5:7, NIV). We often speak to God without emotion, yet here we read that Jesus prayed with a reverent passion that included loud cries and tears. Mahatma Gandhi once said: “Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one’s weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.” Jesus modeled heartfelt and sincere communication with God. Unless we follow his example, we will become like dying branches trying to live separately from the vine (John 15:5). Just as we need air to survive physically, we need prayer to stay alive spiritually.

When we try to impress other people with our prayers, we are cheating ourselves of an honest conversation with God. The Pharisees made this mistake. By praying pretentious public prayers in the very face of God, they foolishly imagined that Jesus was their enemy; and they lost out on what could have been the greatest blessing of their lives. In contrast to the Pharisees, Jesus taught that we should pray “in our closet,” where we can be free from the expectations of others and experience the joy of a genuine relationship with him (Matthew 6:5, 6).

Quality time with God is a challenge in our modern world where we constantly multitask. Two thousand years ago, Jesus experienced a similar struggle. He healed and fed thousands of people, but he always had more people calling for his help. At times, he left the hungry people behind to spend time alone with the Father (Luke 5:16; Matthew 14:23). For Jesus, time spent with God was more than a priority—it was where he received his power to help others. If we want to live for God, connecting with him through prayer is our primary power source. Paul says to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17). This doesn’t mean we have to spend the entire day on our knees, but we can commune with God’s constant presence early in the day and remain connected with him throughout our day.

Jesus Taught Us How to Pray

When his friends asked Jesus how to pray, he taught them with what we call today “The Lord’s Prayer.” Modern Christians cherish and often repeat it as a liturgy, but the verses will lose their significance if repeated coldly in a sing-song voice without any reflection on what they mean. This prayer (which is similar to the Kadish in the Talmud) was probably taught to Jesus as a child. In many of his teachings, Jesus borrowed from the literature of the day to reconfirm what was true and right and to speak in the culture of his listeners. Jesus intended these words to be more than a beautiful verse to a song; he yearns for us to dissect and suck the marrow out of them as a pattern for our daily walk with God. Many things have been written about this prayer, but our purpose here is to consider these words in the context of our personal relationship with God.

Our Father Who Is in Heaven

In order to enter into any relationship, we must become mentally present. When we greet our friends, we usually call them by name before we start up a conversation. The title we use, whether it is “Mom” or “Doctor” or “Professor” defines our relationship with them. If we choose to ignore them or fail to recognize them, there will simply be no conversation. The first thing Jesus taught his friends is that we can become present with God by acknowledging who he is (Matthew 6:9, NIV). By addressing God as “our Father in heaven,” we are accepting a father-child relationship, which frees us to experience the peace and simplicity of having someone bigger and more powerful to take care of us. The realization that our unique Heavenly Father is always present with us and willing to help us—whether we acknowledge him or not—is the first step in having a relationship with him.

Holy Is Your Name

When Jesus teaches us to praise God’s holy name, he is encouraging us to start our conversation with God by focusing our attention on God’s special and unique character. The psalmist speaks of entering God’s gates with thanksgiving (Psalm 100:4) and describes God as being enthroned on our praises (Psalm 22:3). God’s character is never self-serving, and this praise is not for his ego; rather, it is for our own benefit, because we were designed to become like whatever we worship and admire (2 Corinthians 3:16-18; Ephesians 3:19). Giving thanks to God reminds us of what he has done for us in the past—while praising his attributes enables us to realize that the God we are praying to is neither a common father nor an ordinary god of stone, but a living God who is all-powerful and all-loving and able to supply everything we need.

Jesus promised, “If you ask anything in my name, I will do it” (John 14:14, NKJV); but what does praying in God’s name actually look like? Does this mean that God won’t answer the prayers of people who don’t recognize the name Jesus? The Bible reveals that God bends down to meet people on their level, regardless of whether they call him by his proper name or not. The Samaritan woman was looking for the Messiah, but she had no clue that Jesus was the one. Paul preached a sermon about the “unknown God” (Acts 17:23) because he knew that many who were searching for God were unsure of what to call him. Even today, the world is full of people who are sincerely seeking God yet calling him by other names. God shows no partiality (Acts 10:34, NKJV); he listens to the prayers of sincere Muslims, Jews, and Buddhists just as lovingly as he listens to Christians.

The actual name we use when we talk to God is not nearly as important as the spirit with which we call him. Because the word name in the Bible is synonymous with character, the name of Jesus is not some magic word to be used like a talisman. God’s name encompasses the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and all that his character stands for. When Jesus prayed to his Father, he said: “The world has not known you, but I have known you; and these have known that you sent me. And I have declared to them your name, and will declare it, that the love with which you loved me may be in them, and I in them” (John 17:25, 26, NKJV, emphasis supplied). According to Jesus, he declared the Father’s name because the world did not know God. The purpose of declaring God’s name is for everyone to understand his character and recognize his great love. When we realize that God’s glory is his character (Exodus 33:18, 19), we can understand how it is God’s desire to be known by the nations for who he is, instead of the way his enemy has painted him.

When we pray in God’s name, we will pray with the same spirit of other-centered love that Christ demonstrated. Some prayers, like praying for the lottery “in Jesus’ name,” or praying against our competition “in Jesus’ name,” are actually antithetical to God’s character of unselfish love. Jesus even told his friends that “so far you haven’t even asked for anything in my name” (John 16:24). Perhaps his disciples were still struggling to understand the truth about God’s humble character and the ways of his upside-down kingdom, in which the strong serve the weak, enemies receive love instead of revenge, and friends die for one another. Jesus later told Peter to strengthen others after his conversion (Luke 22:32). Genuine conversion entails a true change of mind. When we are changed by the truth about God’s character and his methods of unselfish love, we become one with God—both in our character and in our prayer requests.

The forces of heaven are mobilized by prayers of an unselfish nature. Elijah was a man just like us. When Elijah prayed, God sent a drought, and when he prayed again, it rained (James 5:17, 18). Elijah’s prayers were answered because he was not praying for himself; he was uniting with God’s will for the salvation of others. The prayer of an upright person is powerful and effective (James 5:16). We may not always witness divine intervention in the way that we desire, but we can be sure that any prayer in harmony with Jesus’ character has a powerful effect.

Your Kingdom Come

The Lord’s Prayer is a call for Christ’s followers to live authentically and deal with the reality of life in this damaged world, as well as to prepare for the life to come. God’s Kingdom is not at all like any kingdoms of this world. When we pray for God’s Kingdom to come, we are asking God to make us a part of his upside-down Kingdom in which the stronger serves the weaker, even while we are struggling here on earth. When we truly mean what we pray, then our lives will begin to reflect the mindset of God.

Your Will Be Done on Earth As It Is in Heaven

Jesus taught his friends to pray for God’s will. By this, he implied that God’s will is often not being done on this earth or in our own personal lives. Pain and suffering are never God’s will. Rather, God’s will for humanity was clearly revealed in the life of Jesus—who fed the hungry, healed the sick, and associated with the outcasts of society. The Bible says that God never changes (Malachi 3:6; Hebrews 13:8); therefore, we can be sure that God feels the same way today and is eager to relieve suffering, pain, and sadness. So why doesn’t he do this consistently? Many factors exist that involve the freedom of the human race. Without God’s omniscient perspective, we are not always able to see clearly (1 Corinthians 13:12). When we pray for others to be healed according to God’s will, and nothing happens, we often assume that we either lack the faith or that it was not God’s will to heal them. Perhaps neither of these is true. It’s important to step back and consider the complex dynamics at work that influence the outcome of our prayers. If we could only see all the struggles that go on behind human façades and satanic manipulations, it might help us to understand why God appears so silent at times. God’s will is always for us to pray for others, including our enemies; but if an individual stubbornly refuses to listen to God’s Spirit, our prayers and God’s will may both go unrequited. A mother praying for her rebellious son might have the faith to move mountains, yet wonders, “Why doesn’t God answer my prayers?” In situations such as this, it’s important to realize God’s dilemma. God relentlessly pursues every individual with all the resources of heaven, without overriding that person’s freedom. Though God loves her son more than she does, he will continue to honor the son’s choices. If the curtain could be pulled back, we might witness that the mother’s prayer in some way gave permission for God to combat the dark spiritual forces that surrounded her son, to temporarily break through Satan’s grip. During that window of time, the son may have seen the folly of his ways and considered giving his life to God, or he may have deliberately chosen not to do so. Someday, when we can see things from God’s perspective, we will realize the many ways in which our prayers have voted for God’s will.

Some may wonder why we should bother to pray for God’s will at all since he already knows everything we need even before we ask for it. In his quest for relationship with us, God invites us to be co-actors on the stage of the universe by giving us opportunities to influence reality with our prayers and actions. God values our moral freedom to decide for or against him. Despite his absolute power and sovereignty, God has voluntarily limited himself by allowing us to determine our own destiny. In this sense, prayer may represent an official request on our part for God to step in and act in our life or the lives of others and for the forces of evil to retreat.

Give Us Our Daily Bread

We know that God invites us to share our struggles with him because Jesus told us to ask God for our daily bread (Luke 11:3), and Paul testified that God supplies our needs (Philippians 4:6, 7). Jesus told us to ask if we want to receive (Matthew 7:7), and some fail to receive simply because they do not ask (James 4:2). Taking God at his word enables us to stop worrying about the future (Luke 12:24-28). Unfortunately, many people limit their conversations with God to requests for such help. While it’s true that God is always willing to help us with our emergencies, he longs for an intimate friendship that is based on a mature, trusting relationship. When we rely on God to fill our daily needs, it reminds us that all the nourishment we crave—both physical and spiritual—is found in Jesus.

Forgive Our Trespasses

When we ask God to forgive our sins while we forgive those who sin against us, we become free from the burdens of guilt and revenge. Christ’s command to love and pray for our enemies (Matthew 5:46-48; Luke 6:28) is one of the most difficult to follow. Throughout the centuries, Christians have had a poor record of loving our enemies—as a matter of fact, we have mostly persecuted and killed them. Even today, it often seems counterintuitive and outright foolish to love those who are out to destroy us. So what exactly did Jesus mean, and how does he expect us to implement this command? While we may not always understand the logistics of our broken relationships, we can pray for God to open our eyes to view other people in the way that he sees them. Regardless of our disagreements, praying for others allows God’s Spirit to work in the hearts of both parties, and enemies may be transformed into friends. James taught that prayerful confession brings spiritual healing. “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed” (James 5:16). Whether our prayers restrain Satan’s control over another person or enable us to win our battle with self, Jesus is teaching us how to engage in the highest level of spiritual warfare. We can only help God demolish Satan’s strongholds if we are willing to ask him for forgiveness and in turn forgive those who have hurt us.

Deliver Us From the Evil One

Prayer can be a vital weapon for overcoming the enemy: “Do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one” (Luke 11:4, NKJV). Our enemy is like a raging lion, eager to devour us (1 Peter 5:8) and attack every life with powers that we cannot see. This cosmic conflict is not one of light sabers and physical weapons; instead, it is being fought in human minds as we each make our choice whether to trust and obey God or his enemy (2 Corinthians 10:3-5). Paul advises us to put on the whole armor of God so we can stand against the devil’s schemes. He warns us that we are not fighting against other people but against “the wicked spiritual forces in the heavenly world” (Ephesians 6:12, GNB). What better weapon than unity with God through prayer! Paul tells us to “pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion” (Ephesians 6:11-18). Even when we are prayerfully committed to God, Satan may try to oppress us with negativity and discouragement, to destroy our trust. When we are tempted, discouraged, or sick, we should immediately ask God for help (James 5:13, 14) because the Spirit of Jesus dwelling inside us is greater than the god of this world (1 John 4:4).

When we have little indication from heaven that our prayers are being answered, we might not feel like praising God at all. During such uncertain times, we actually benefit the most from praising God. The author of Hebrews calls this a “sacrifice of praise” (Hebrews 13:15). Praising God despite our inability to see him working strengthens our faith and allows us to remember that whatever we ask of God, we can ask in confidence (James 1:6). By praising God regardless of our current situation, we are declaring our faith to the onlooking universe as we give God authority to act out his will in our lives.

Even while we wait for the answers to our prayers, God is still working. The great prayer warrior Daniel asked God to restore his temple (Daniel 9:3, 17) but had to wait twenty-one days for an explanation of a disturbing dream. During this time, Daniel was so alarmed by what he saw that he was unable to eat or enjoy life. All he could do was pray. When he finally arrived, the angel explained how he had been locked in spiritual battle and had to wait for reinforcements to arrive before he was free to answer Daniel’s prayer (Daniel 10:12-14). This story reveals such complex factors and spiritual forces at play in this cosmic conflict that even angels and super prayer warriors have to wait sometimes.

One of the most interactive opportunities of spiritual warfare is intercessory prayer. Several years ago, I was traveling with a Christian choir on a public bus in New Zealand when two 10-year-old girls sat down across the aisle from me, heading home for Easter break. They had been passing the time by playing with a popular board game that is sometimes used to communicate with the dead. One of the girls, Lily, asked me if I had ever played with the board. I explained that I was a Christian and that I put my faith in Jesus. Lily looked puzzled. She told me that she was not a Christian and didn’t even know what Christians believed. She asked if I would tell her the story of Easter. The bus ride was fairly long, so I started in the beginning with the story of Creation. Lily seemed attentive to the story, but her friend suddenly began to writhe and screech loudly. I was so absorbed in the storytelling that I barely noticed this distraction, but the other members of our choir sensed that Lily’s friend was under the influence of the enemy. They began to pray, and Lily’s friend immediately curled up into a fetal position and was silent for the rest of the trip. When I finished telling about Jesus’ death and resurrection, Lily had tears streaming down her face. As the bus wound down to her stop, I prayed while Lily gave her heart to Jesus. Her friend woke up just in time to get off of the bus. This true story shows how we can work together as a team to listen for God’s voice and intercede for others. In the unseen battle that rages around us, the apostle told us to “stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere” (Ephesians 6:18). Whenever we unite with God and each other through prayer, we give God permission to act for the good of all.

Every life on this earth is affected by the war between God and Satan. While we often feel devastated when we don’t receive the answers we want, we never bear our suffering alone. God has promised that he will never leave us (Deuteronomy 31:8; Joshua 1:5; Hebrews 13:5). Even Jesus, praying in the garden for the Father to take away his trial, did not receive what he asked for (Mark 14:36). Jesus himself is no stranger to suffering, and we can be assured that his loving friendship will strengthen us during our own pain. Even when our prayers are not answered the way we would like, and our faith has been tried, we can find consolation in God’s Spirit, our Comforter (John 15:26). Through his Spirit, Jesus has promised to fill our hearts with a peace greater than that of this world (John 14:27).

Without Faith It Is Impossible to Please God

We receive the greatest benefit from the Lord’s Prayer when we use it as a framework for an honest relationship with God and combine it with faith. The Bible emphasizes that it is impossible to live out the concepts that Jesus taught without faith (Hebrews 11:6). “Faith means being sure of the things we hope for and knowing that something is real even if we do not see it” (Hebrews 11:1, NCV). James tells us to ask in faith without doubting (James 1:5), and Paul describes faith as a shield to shelter us from the weapons of the enemy (Ephesians 6:16). Faith is never “blind”; it entails complete trust in God, based on the evidence that Jesus gave us showcasing God’s trustworthy character. Jesus taught that all things are possible for those who believe (Mark 9:23). Jesus knew the Father so well that he trusted him completely. This gave Christ the power to overcome temptations and to live according to God’s principles. Praying with faith provides us with the mindset of Jesus. This kind of trust in God empowers us to turn the other cheek, forgive our brothers, and love our enemies. This kind of faith gives us heaven’s perspective, which the world cannot understand, because spiritual things are spiritually understood (1 Corinthians 2:14). When he healed people, Jesus often said, “Your faith has made you well” (Mark 5:34; Mark 10:52; Luke 17:19). He indicated that our spiritual health is dependent on our trust in God. Hebrews 11 reveals that faith is taking God at his Word, which empowers people to do the impossible. Abraham, Daniel, and Elijah are just a few who overcame great odds because of their faith. The people in the “faith hall of fame” refused to allow their own mistakes or the conditions around them to define their choices; instead, they relied on their trust in God to live out heaven’s reality. We, too, can have such faith, when we choose to have a daily, interactive relationship with God through prayer.

God in Us—Our Ultimate Interaction with God

The ultimate manifestation of time spent with God is his Holy Spirit dwelling inside of us (John 14:16-18). Without God’s Spirit, the events on this earth would only be perceived through our sin-damaged minds. When we don’t know what to pray for, God’s Spirit translates our pain and enables us to ask for what we really need (Romans 8:26). Jesus promised that the Father will give us his Spirit just as generously as an earthly father gives bread to his cherished child (Luke 11:13). When we are troubled, God comforts us through his Spirit. When we seek truth, God leads us through his Spirit. The gift of the Holy Spirit is not simply speaking in some unknown language, as some might think, but is the Spirit of God leading us to understand the truth about God (John 14:17, 26; 15:26; 16:13). While the Spirit works though our conscience and impressions, guiding us throughout our life, we can choose at any moment to reject God’s Spirit and push him away. All it takes is a refusal to listen to the truth that he reveals, which will ultimately result in a false picture of God. As long as we choose to pray to God sincerely, we can be reassured that the Holy Spirit will continue to guide us into all truth (John 16:13).

Prayer Transforms Lives

Jesus shared many meals with sinners, seeking to commune with the broken and humble in heart. In the last book of the Bible, Jesus says that he is standing at our door knocking; and if we choose to let him, he will come in and eat with us (Revelation 3:20). This is not a literal bowl of soup that he wants to eat with us but an illustration of the fellowship that Jesus longs to have with each of us just as he did with his disciples. Something creates a bond when we share a meal together; the process allows us to know and trust each other. Jesus longs for us to eat from the Living Bread, which is to internalize his message about God and to open the door of our hearts through prayer and let him transform us into his image (2 Corinthians 3:18). When we bring our daily thoughts to Jesus in prayer and share all of our desires and plans—both good and bad—with his kind and gentle heart, we will experience God’s power transforming our lives. Jesus wants to share eternal life with us, and the key to that new life is prayerful intimacy with God.

The Power of Spirit-filled Prayer

We’ve all witnessed public prayers that seem to drone on in a monotonous voice. Formal charades with long-winded lists have contributed to insipid worship. Bland worship services have in turn contributed to prayerless and powerless lives lived apart from the Vine. The passion of God’s love for humanity is often downplayed by such tepid and powerless examples of prayer. Acts 2 reveals an antidote to lukewarm worship. Spirit-led prayer may include more than one speaker (Acts 1:13, 14) and can activate and empower the entire room with God’s love in order to spread the gospel (Acts 1:8). Pentecost was the perfect environment for God’s Spirit to be poured out. To the eyes of the world, Jesus was gone and his followers should have quietly dwindled away; but Jesus was unlike any other being who ever walked on this earth. His disciples had bonded through their love for him; they imitated Christ’s example of other-centered love and humbled themselves to serve each other. Inspired with stories about his life and conversing with their now-invisible friend, they prayed constantly to the One who had just been walking, eating, and talking with them. As they fellowshiped together, they wholeheartedly celebrated the life of the One who had told them to “watch and pray” (Mark 14:38). Remembering his promise, they prayed earnestly for the outpouring of his Spirit.

First-hand experience with Jesus motivated them to set aside their pride and meditate on his words, in preparation for the gift of the Spirit. The effect of God’s Spirit is never self-glorification or status but true humility and joy, which empower God’s people to spread the Good News about his love. When the disciples spoke, people who had come from all over the world were amazed that these uneducated fishermen spoke in their own language. Nothing about this event was happenstance—all heaven had been waiting for this moment. The intensity of their prayers and praises must have been great because the entire room shook; and “like a wildfire, the Holy Spirit spread through their ranks” (Acts 2:3, MSG). God made himself so known in that room to those who had been so touched by conversations with Jesus that they were now willing to die for him. When God’s people begin to humble themselves and pray with a sincere heart, emptied of self, there is finally room for God’s glory to flow through their lives. The prayerful days that led up to Pentecost are an example for us. A constant and prayerful connection with Jesus transformed the lives of the disciples and activated the great outpouring of the Holy Spirit. This same Jesus holds out his hands to us, offering us the same unity that he offered the disciples. That vital connection is available to us now through prayer—just as real, just as powerful, and just as life transforming as it was 2,000 years ago.

[1].  From a sermon by C. S. Lewis entitled, “The Weight of Glory,” originally given at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, Oxford, on June 8, 1942.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Community 101

MARK MERIZAN

By this may all men know that you are my disciples—that you

love one another.

—Jesus (John 13:35)

MY WIFE, BRENDA, AND I HAD JUST arrived at our hotel on Maui to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary when we received the phone call telling us of my father’s death. Though not totally unexpected news, it nonetheless happened sooner than anticipated. After taking the call and making arrangements with the family, I went down and sat on the rocks above the surf and looked out over the ocean, thinking of how my father was now at rest with my mom and that I was now technically an orphan. No matter how old you are, there is something that happens with the passing of your parents: a connection to the past is broken; continuity with things that define who you are is lost.

When your emotions are close to the surface, many things long suppressed present themselves. As I looked back up toward our hotel, I could see families moving about in their rooms; and I wondered what it might have been like to really be an orphan—to have grown up not knowing what it was like to be surrounded by a loving family. Would not such a child feel a sense of loss and indescribable longing for something he or she had never known? Would not this absence leave an emptiness deep in his or her soul?

I grew up in a loving family, one of four brothers. I have married a wonderful woman with whom I have labored to create a loving home of my own. I have no lack of family support. And yet, in the quiet times, such as sitting on the shore in the darkness of a Hawaiian night while I mourn the loss of my parents, I still feel that longing for something more. Despite all the love in my life, there is still something missing, a sense—akin to that of an orphan—that I have never known the home for which I was intended.

That longing for something we know we have lost is best described for me in the opening pages of the book from which this chapter derives its title, “Community 101: Reclaiming Church as a Community of Oneness.”  Three sentences from the opening page of this book summarize the sense of loss I felt that dark night in Hawaii as I sat on the shore:

When we take time to become silent and to listen, we may hear the scream from the depths of our being, the clamor to bare our souls and to reveal the mystery of our true selves. Just listen, listen closely…. It is the distant echo of the wail in the garden at the loss of innocence, of the grieving after a remembrance of shared freedom, of the release of body and soul to the embrace of absolute oneness.[1]

Such was the oneness with which God created us—his gift to Adam and Eve when he created them “in his image, male and female”—as beings who, like the Godhead itself, were incomplete without each other. This is the oneness that young lovers experience for the first time that binds them together and makes them feel alive and wonderful. They are experiencing an echo of God’s gift that was lost when our first parents rejected their Maker and his gifts and chose for themselves and their children the path of isolation and disconnection from one another.

But the story of the Bible and God’s interaction with humanity over the millennia tells us that while God will not force himself upon us, he has been working to restore to his children what was lost. Although we may not always be aware of it, this longing for something we have never really known colors every moment of our lives. But we can take heart in the fact that God has promised us the restoration of that gift of oneness that he gave to our parents.

My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. (John 17:20-23, NIV).

The oneness that God desires for us—which is truly astounding—is the gift of his own glory, which is described as being one with each other in the same way that Jesus and the Father are one. God’s ideal for us as his followers is that we interact with one another in the same way that Jesus is one with his Father. Jesus allowed only one defining mark to distinguish disciples of his Kingdom from the rest of the world. That mark was not how they dressed, what they ate, what doctrines they subscribed to, their economic status, or where they lived. Jesus said plainly: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35, NRSV). But we rarely spend time trying to heed Jesus’ words and make our love for one another our distinguishing mark as Christians. If you asked non-Christians the first thing they think of when “Christian” is mentioned, how many of them do you think would say “how they love each other”? Instead, we divide ourselves into factions based on the petty externals of food, drink, and the keeping of festivals. Is it because we do not want to be part of the Kingdom Jesus established? Or is it that we don’t really believe it is possible? G. K. Chesterton once remarked: “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and not tried.”

We want Jesus’ words to be true. We want to believe that we could be part of this Kingdom in which love is the only coin of the realm. We long to be part of the Kingdom of God proclaimed by John the Baptist—this Kingdom of the turning of the hearts of the fathers to the children and the children to the fathers (Luke 1:17). That is where we belong; that is what we long for. That silent longing is for reconnection, for community with God and with our human family. We want to go home again.

This longing for the home we know we were meant for is more than just a psychological deficit. It is an echo of the destruction of the primal condition of humanity, fresh from the hand of God. The grief we feel is for the lost image of God that he placed in humanity. Christianity is unique among the monotheistic religions in that the Godhead represents a community of beings.[2] The one thing that God noted in Creation that was “not good” was that Adam was alone (Genesis 2:18). God’s solution was to create a special person, a “rescuer” (the original meaning of “helpmate”[3]) for Adam. Thus it is Adam and Eve together who reflect the image of God, a community of two individuals. Small wonder that marriage is sacred, for in it, we reflect the essence of the nature of God.

This community that comes about when two people form a bond is not just a convenient arrangement for domestic life and the production of children. When two people link their lives, the community that they form has a life of its own. That is why we mourn when that bond is broken. We feel as though a person has died—that a part of us has died—and there is a reality in that feeling. People who come together in love and trust create something that is greater than either one of them—an ethereal “life form” as sacred as any child that may result from their union and that deserves as much nurturing and protection.

While the marriage relationship is certainly the most accessible illustration of this principle of community, it does not stop there. Those who have grown up in loving homes know that the same bond exists within the protection of a healthy family. No matter how far apart we may be, we feel the existence of that family community. We rejoice when new members are added and grieve when that bond is disrupted by death or strife.

Nor does it stop with a family. To the degree to which we are connected with individuals in the larger world, community can exist on the level of clan, tribe, nation, or ideally, our world. God’s plan was to link all of humanity together in unbroken fellowship, but we rejected his offer when we accepted the lies of the serpent in the garden.

We turned away from God and from each other and have been at war ever since—nation against nation, clan against clan, brother against brother, husband against wife. We fight. And yet we feel the loss when we do. This is the heart of the human condition and the tragedy of our loss. We were meant to be so much more. We were intended to swim in a sea of connectedness, to know and to be known in total freedom and safety.

But God did not abandon us in our broken state. The Good News about God and how he has dealt with the human condition reassures us that he is on our side.  Throughout the Bible, God is pictured as working to restore relationships, first the broken relationship between the Creator and his creatures and then the broken relationships between his children. Adam and Eve started blaming each other and God for their broken relationships as soon as they fell, thus giving clear evidence of the disconnection (Genesis 3:12, 13). Despite their shattering of relationships, God’s reaction was to go searching for them, trying to reestablish the broken trust, pretending not to know where they were so that they could voluntarily come to him (Genesis 3:9).

The entire story of God’s dealings with Israel was one long struggle to help reestablish this link with him and with each other. The laws he gave them were established to accomplish this reconnection. Think of how Jesus summarized it: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and will all your might. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is just like it. You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39, NRSV). Community with God and with man! Jesus makes it clear that how we relate to God is reflected in how we treat each other.

What might have happened had the children of Israel come together in the community that God intended for them? Look at the promises God made to them if only they would receive him as their leader. He promised that the world would beat a path to their doorstep to know what they knew and to have what they had. If only they had put aside the things that lead to isolation rather than community: petty jealousy, greed, and self-importance.

Considering the way we treat each other and looking within ourselves, it would be easy to dismiss the possibility that such unity is even possible. It would be naive to think that such a community could exist were it not for the fact that Jesus gave his followers an explicit command that such was God’s intent for them. In John 13-17, Jesus gives his last message to his disciples. Here we witness the Creator of the universe down on his knees, washing the dirty feet of his own creatures. We hear him explain what God is like and what he wants from his children—that they be his understanding friends rather than merely his servants (John 15:15). And most astoundingly, he reveals to us God’s ultimate goal—that we live according to his principles of unselfishness and love and thereby experience the same “oneness” with God and with each other that Jesus shares with his Father (John 17:20, 21). This loving unity with God is what Jesus describes as the “glory” that his Father gave him: “I have given them the glory You gave Me, so they may be one as We are one” (John 17:22, NLT). Born of a true and intimate knowledge of God, this glory is the very essence of eternal life itself (John 17:3).

After Jesus finished saying this, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come. Give glory to your Son, so that the Son may give glory to you. For you gave him authority over all people, so that he might give eternal life to all those you gave him. And eternal life means to know you the only true God, and to know Jesus Christ, whom you sent. I have shown your glory on earth; I have finished the work you gave me to do. Father! Give me glory in your presence now, the same glory I had with you before the world was made. I have made you known to those you gave me out of the world.” (John 17:1-6, GNB).

In this passage, God’s glory is linked to making himself known to us. Without knowing God and without that glorious union with him, we are lost in this world. So shortly before his arrest, we see the Son of God praying for the protection of his disciples.

I pray that they may all be one. Father! May they be in us, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they be one, so that the world will believe that you sent me. I gave them the same glory you gave me, so that they may be one, just as you and I are one: I in them and you in me, so that they may be completely one, in order that the world may know that you sent me and that you love them as you love me. (John 17:21-23, GNB).

Some would consider it blasphemy even to imagine we could be one with God. Yet that is exactly what Jesus asks for on our behalf. What hope for our lonely hearts! What a promise to claim—intimate and healing union with God at the same level that Jesus shares with his Father! When we share real intimacy of soul with another human being, it is a modern miracle. Yet Jesus promises us just that and so much more. He assures us in plain words that those who love him will experience intimacy with Jesus and thus with God in this life and in the life to come. No words exist to express how overwhelming such a prospect is.

Every community will exhibit the character of the one upon whom it is based. The power of connection may still work, even when it is based on the principles of evil. That is why gangs work. Destructive of themselves and others, they do not last; but they do provide a substitute for the connectedness that we all seek with our Creator and with each other. Unity with God is at the heart of every healthy community. A living and growing community must be based on this connection, this oneness with God through Jesus. The ideal of God’s Kingdom was evident during the time of Pentecost, when people displayed the greatest example of community that has ever been seen on earth:

And all the believers lived in a wonderful harmony, holding everything in common. They sold whatever they owned and pooled their resources so that each person’s need was met. They followed a daily discipline of worship in the Temple followed by meals at home, every meal a celebration, exuberant and joyful, as they praised God. (Acts 2:43-47, MSG).

Unfortunately, the history of the Christian church provides a sobering example of the forces that array themselves against God’s community. The enemy knows where his greatest threat comes from—people connecting with God and with each other. The early church broke down over the same issues that plague us now—the power struggles over who would run the “organization,” who would wield control, or who would direct the strength of the community that they managed to form. Too often we disconnect from God and give Satan an ear.

Healing and community are intertwined. True community cannot exist with broken people. Community requires trust and therefore requires trustworthy people. But we cannot really heal without the support of the community around us. We were not created to be alone. God’s words, “It is not good that man should be alone,” are still valid today. But God is ever-willing to work with us. When we stay connected to him, the healing of the individuals as well as the community will take place. We will experience community to the extent that we allow him to heal our damage, our selfishness, and our lack of trust and trustworthiness. Any attempt at connection with others is an avenue through which God can work for healing and community.

So how can we find hope? Can we do anything to attain this beautiful promise of unity with God and with each other? I believe we can. And I believe that what we can do is something simple and within the grasp of everyone who wants to make a difference and be a part of the solution.

We who live in the shadows need not fear the darkness, for we can battle the night with a spark every day. The truth about God’s character is clearly seen in the person of Jesus Christ. God’s glory is his character. When we see God as he really is, and we begin to trust him, we enter the process of becoming one with him and with others (John 17:23). When the light of God’s glory—of this oneness—comes to fill the whole earth, it will not be from one central beacon. God’s glory will fill the earth through the combined sparks of our individual connectedness to his glory. How does this happen? It does not come through the grand strategies or theological systems of carefully crafted organizations. It will come through each and every one of Jesus’ followers doing the one practical thing that God has enabled them to do—to reach out and connect with one other individual by showing compassion, by exhibiting kindness and unselfishness. They can do this every day, or every hour of every day, or simply as the opportunity presents itself. They can do this despite the attempts of the enemy to keep them separated, divided, and scattered in disunity. The enemy has nothing to fear as long as the sparks remain isolated. But if those individual sparks manifesting the glory of God unite in the synergy of the community that is the Kingdom of God, then the enemy knows that his days are numbered and few. His goal is to keep us pursuing our individual agendas—to keep us focused on our own pain, our own safety and well-being—at the expense of others. As long as our primary attention is directed inward at ourselves rather than outward toward God and our neighbor, the cosmic conflict will linger on, and the suffering will continue.

When we come together as a loving community, we put into practice the gospel of Jesus. The good news is that we are not alone—that God is there to provide succor to all who need it. By being the hands and feet of Jesus to make that happen, we do more to press forward the coming of the Kingdom of God than all the sermons preached, than all the organizations constructed, than all the theology written. And the beautiful thing about this is that each of us already has the tools that are needed. If we have a love for and connection with the God of the universe through Jesus Christ, we have all we need to reach out to one another.

If you long for the unity with God that we lost in Eden, if you hear the call of that family you have never known, if you are tired of living beneath the shadow that has ruled our world for ages, do not despair. There is something that you can do about it—something practical; something that you can do every day with your family, those you love, with your church, in your workplace, in the market, on the highway, in your phone conversations, and in all the nooks and crannies of your normal life. You can open yourself up to the God of the universe and allow him to work in you. As you are transformed by God’s love for you, you will become a conduit through which God can work in the life of another. Then you will become sensitive to the needs of one other person. You will look for the kind word, smile, or act of service that may help struggling souls raise their heads out of the muck and look at the stars. You will listen to others and not insist on instructing them or pretending that you can be their healer. You will offer a hand where no one seems to notice the need. You will befriend the one who seems to be outcast and avoided by others. You will reflect God’s character to a dying world.

It may seem like a frightening step to take, especially since the enemy will whisper in your ear, “Don’t be a fool! You are all alone.” But there is a quotation from Jewish mysticism that I think applies here: “When a man takes one step toward God, God takes more steps toward man than there are sands in the worlds of time.”[4] If we are willing to open ourselves up to be conduits for God’s grace to others, then no act, no matter how small, is without its fruit. So even if our small efforts seem to have been rejected or to have had no effect, we should not give up. We do God’s work when we sow the seeds of his kindness without reservation in everything we do. In the process, we ourselves are blessed by the passage of God’s grace through us. In fact, it is the primary way in which we are healed. We who have made that “one step toward God” are benefited by the sense of his presence in us.

We tend to equate community with great organizations that have power, prestige, and visibility. We are given to measuring success by numbers—“noses and nickels,” as someone once phrased it. But Jesus’ own picture of the Kingdom of God is much different. He likens it to a “mustard seed,” which can hardly be seen but when it has grown to maturity, fills the whole backyard. He also compares it to yeast, which is totally invisible in the dough but makes the loaf grow to many times its size. Jesus is describing this cumulative effect of small sparks that become a light that fills the world. Jesus tells us: “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you” (Luke 17:20, 21, NLT). God’s Kingdom will be most clearly manifested in the way we treat those with whom we come in contact. Much is accomplished when we speak the truth about God. However, so much more is possible when we implement this truth about God’s loving character in the way we care for the people with whom we come in contact. Eden is restored when we choose to live in the light of God’s presence.

The fulfillment of God’s promise of oneness with him and with each other is within our reach. When the knowledge of God’s trustworthy character touches our hearts and minds and we enter into a daily prayerful connection with him, his Spirit will enable us to manifest this glory toward our neighbor. We then open ourselves to be his channels, to effectively share the good news of God’s plan of reconnection with each other. Through Jesus, we become sparks that set the whole earth on fire (Luke 12:49).

[1].  Gilbert Bilezikian, Community 101: Reclaiming the Church as a Community of Oneness (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, 1997).

[2].  The Godhead consists of God the Father, God the Son (Jesus), and God the Holy Spirit. It’s possible that this is referred to also in the Genesis account, when the plural form El-o-heem is used for God (Genesis 1:1).

[3].  For a discussion on the original meaning of “helpmate,” see Alice Ogden Bellis, Helpmates, Harlots, and Heroes: Women’s Stories in the Hebrew Bible (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994), 54.

[4].  Quote from The Work of the Chariot.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Living in, and Looking Like, Christ

GREGORY A. BOYD

Imitating Jesus

EARLY CHURCH FATHERS HAD TO STRUGGLE WITH a heresy called “Gnosticism” (from the Greek word gnõsis, meaning “knowledge”). Among other things, this heresy taught that one is saved strictly on the basis of what one believes. So far as I can see, Gnosticism is alive and well in contemporary American Christianity. A number of studies have shown that there is very little difference between professing Christians and non-Christians in America in regard to the core values we espouse and behaviors we practice.[1] In other words, the only clearly identifiable area that sets Christians apart is that they hold different beliefs from non-Christians, and this, in the opinion of many Christians, is what “saves” them. If this isn’t Gnosticism, then it’s at least something dangerously close.

By contrast, while the New Testament certainly stresses the importance of believing certain things, it never divorces these beliefs from life. True faith, it teaches, always makes a difference in the life of the person who exercises it. This is what James is getting at when he teaches that faith that doesn’t lead to action is useless (James 2:20). For the same reason, the New Testament never entertains the possibility of believing in Jesus without aspiring to live like Jesus. “Whoever claims to live in him [Christ],” John says, “must live as Jesus did” (1 John 2:6). Along the same lines, Paul says we are called to “imitate God,” which means we are to “walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us” (Ephesians 5:1, 2). We are to follow Jesus’ example of humble, loving service to one another (John 13:15). In fact, we are to aspire to have every aspect of our life conformed to the image of Jesus Christ (e.g., Ephesians 4:17-27; 5:1, 2; Colossians 3:1-17). This includes following his example of responding in love rather than in violence to enemies (1 Peter 2:20, 21). To truly believe in Jesus means that one aspires to live like Jesus.

Our New Identity “In Christ”

At the same time, it’s vitally important we understand that we can’t possibly hope to live as Jesus did unless we are by faith “living in Jesus.” The call to follow Jesus’ example isn’t a challenge to embrace a difficult ethical system on the basis of our own self-effort. Rather, it’s a call to live out an identity that we are freely given when we submit our lives to Christ.

When we exercise faith in Christ and what he has done for us, we are transported from one domain—our identity “in Adam” (1 Corinthians 15:22) and in “the kingdom of darkness”—into another domain—our identity “in Christ” (Colossians 1:13). When this happens, we become “a new creation in Christ Jesus” (2 Corinthians 5:17). In Christ, we are given grace, are completely forgiven, and are freed from condemnation (1 Corinthians 1:4; Ephesians 4:32; Romans 8:1; cf. 2 Timothy 1:9). In Christ, we are given the blessing promised to Abraham (Galatians 3:14) and are made children of God (Galatians 3:26), who have “obtained an inheritance” that is “imperishable and undefiled” (Ephesians 1:11; 1 Peter 1:4). In Christ, we are “raised up” and “seated…in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 2:6). And in Christ, we are given “the immeasurable riches of [God’s] grace” (Ephesians 2:7) and are blessed “with every spiritual blessing” (Ephesians 1:3).

In fact, Scripture teaches that when we submit our lives to Christ and are placed “in Christ,” God enables us “to participate in the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4). We become part of the “bride” of Christ, who was ordained to receive and reflect the perfect love of the triune God (Ephesians 5:25-32; Revelation 19:7; 21:2, 9). The very same love that the Father has for the Son is now given to us, for we are, as a matter of fact, in the Son.

This incredible truth was profoundly expressed when Jesus prayed to his Father that his disciples would know that the Father has “loved them even as you [the Father] have loved me” (John 17:23, emphasis supplied). Again, several sentences later, Jesus said to the Father, “I made your name [character] known to them…so that the [very same] love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them” (John 17:26, emphasis supplied). When we are placed in Christ, the same eternal, perfect love the Father has for the Son is extended to us. When we live in Christ, we participate in the perfect love that eternally unites the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

In this light we can understand why and how we are called to imitate the life of Jesus. Putting the teachings of Jesus into practice as we seek to follow his example isn’t primarily an ethical ideal we strive for, as one might embark on a ten-step self-improvement routine. Rather, following the example of Jesus is simply a matter of reflecting the reality of our participation in the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). Jesus perfectly revealed God’s eternal loving nature, so it is only to be expected that those who participate in this loving nature increasingly look like Jesus.

This is the essence of the Christian life. We are called to live in Christ and are empowered to live like Christ. We are called to participate in God’s loving nature and are empowered to manifest God’s loving nature.

The Nature of God’s Love

But what does it mean to participate in and reflect God’s love? People today have a lot of confused ideas about the meaning of love. Part of the problem is that we use the word love to cover everything from sexual intercourse (“making love”) to the affection we have for our pets (“I love my cat”) to our approval of a hairstyle (“I just love your hair”). No wonder we’re confused.

The Bible gives us a profoundly simple and beautiful definition of the kind of love (agape) that characterizes the Trinity and in which we participate when we are placed in Christ. To understand this kind of love, we simply need to look at Jesus. “This is how we know what love (agape) is,” John says. “Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for one another” (1 John 3:16, TNIV, emphasis supplied).

God’s love is shown in the fact that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8). God expressed his opinion of our worth, despite our sin, by becoming a human and laying down his life for us. Remarkably, this means that God believes we have unsurpassable worth, for he was willing to pay the ultimate price to redeem us.

This is what true love is all about. Rather than a warm fuzzy feeling one has for another, it is about expressing the worth of another at cost to oneself. In fact, as defined by Jesus Christ, it’s about expressing the unsurpassable worth of others by being willing to sacrifice everything for them. We are called to “walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us” (Ephesians 5:2, emphasis supplied). As Christ gave his all for us, so we are called and empowered to give our all for others. As we abide in Christ and participate in the love of the self-sacrificial God, our lives are to manifest the self-sacrificial love of God to others.

Our Central Distinguishing Mark

The first and most fundamental evidence that we are abiding in Christ and participating in the divine nature is that God’s self-sacrificial love begins to be manifested in our life. For it’s impossible to participate in God’s love and not have it begin to be shown in our life. John puts the matter rather bluntly when he says, “Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love” (1 John 4:8, NIV). And then, even more bluntly, several verses later, he adds; “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars” (1 John 4:20, NIV).

The point is that, if we truly love God, it can’t help but become evident in our life. To love God means, among other things, that we conform our thinking to his thinking and thus agree with him regarding the unsurpassable worth of our brothers and sisters. We may not have “warm fuzzy feelings” regarding these folks, but we have no choice but to love them and thus be willing to make sacrifices on their behalf. And our willingness and ability to love like this is the evidence that we, in fact, abide in Christ and participate in the love of the triune God.

Our Witness to the World

Christlike love is also our primary witness to the world that Jesus is real. “By this,” Jesus says, “everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35, NRSV, emphasis supplied). So, too, as we saw above, Jesus prayed that his disciples would embody the same love he and the Father shared, “so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (John 17:23, NRSV, emphasis supplied). By God’s own design, what is to convince the world that Jesus reveals the true God—the God of unfathomable love—is that this love is manifested in the Christian community.

I believe this is at least part of what John was getting at when he says, “No one has ever seen God,” yet “if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us” (1 John 4:12, NRSV). The Greek word translated “perfected” (teleioō) doesn’t imply that God’s love is in any way improved in us, for God’s love is eternally perfect. It rather denotes something being brought to completion. What John is teaching, therefore, is that the purpose of God’s love for us is fulfilled when it’s witnessed by others in us. People can’t see God directly, of course, but they’re supposed to be able to witness something of his reality in us because of how we love. And this, more than anything else, is how they’re to be convinced that God is truly as loving and beautiful as Christ reveals him to be.

The All-Encompassing Command

Scripture never tires of driving home the centrality of the command to love. “This is the message you have heard from the beginning,” John says, “that we should love one another” (1 John 3:11; cf. 1 John 3:23; 2 John 5). This is the message! John speaks as though there is no other message. So, too, Jesus says: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12; cf. John 13:14). He speaks as though there is no other command. And he speaks this way because, as a matter of fact, there really isn’t any other commandment. Every other commandment and every other message is contained in this one.

This is why, after giving us the two inseparable “greatest” commands to love God and our neighbor as ourselves, Jesus added, “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets” (Matthew 22:40, NRSV). Everything in the Old Testament hangs on and is summed up in these two. Paul concurs: “The whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’” (Galatians 5:14, NRSV). And again, “The one who loves another has fulfilled the law…love is the fulfilling of the law” (Romans 13:8, 10 NRSV). For this reason, the commandment to love is called “the royal law” (James 2:8).

The point of these teachings is that if we truly abide in Christ and love God supremely and our neighbor as ourselves, we will fulfill everything else God requires of us. To obey this commandment consistently and not fulfill the entire law is virtually impossible. This is why Scripture consistently emphasizes that the singular aim of the disciple must be to love.

Everything we do, Paul says, is to be “done in love” (1 Corinthians 16:14). Everything! This means that followers of Jesus should never engage in any activity that is not motivated by love and/or that does not promote love. As a pastor, I often tell people in my church that if they’re ever in a debate with a nonbeliever and proving themselves right begins to become more important than expressing the unsurpassable worth of the person they’re debating, then do the Kingdom a favor and shut up! Because biblically speaking, to have true opinions is useless if you’re not loving in the way you express them. We are to speak truth, but we’re to speak truth “in love” (Ephesians 4:15).

Similarly, Paul says, “Above all, clothe yourselves with love” (Colossians 3:14, emphasis supplied). Christlike love isn’t something we’re to do on occasion; it’s something we are commanded to wear at all times. Never is it appropriate to refrain from loving another person. And this command, we must note, is placed “above all.” Peter agrees, when he writes, “Above all, maintain constant love for one another” (1 Peter 4:8, NRSV, emphasis supplied).

This means there’s nothing that should ever compete with love as our highest priority. Espousing correct biblical doctrine is important, but it should never be as high a priority as loving people. From a Kingdom perspective, all the correct doctrine in the world is worthless if it’s not espoused in a loving way. So, too, espousing various ethical and social positions may at times be very important, but never should they be given as high a priority as expressing self-sacrificial love toward others (including especially to those who disagree with our ethical and/or social stances). From a Kingdom perspective, all the right ethical and social stances in the world are rendered valueless if they aren’t motivated by Christlike love—for the purposes of furthering Christlike love.

An All-Encompassing Love

While the New Testament certainly emphasizes the importance of believers loving one another, it’s vitally important we realize that our call to love includes everybody. Our love is to “abound…for one another and for all” (1 Thessalonians 3:12, emphasis supplied). As God “is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked” (Luke 6:35), and as he allows the blessings of nature to fall “on the evil and on the good” (Matthew 5:45), so our love must be given without any consideration as to whether a person deserves it or not. Jesus teaches us that we are to love like the sun shines and like the rain falls—indiscriminately. Since Jesus died for all (1 John 2:2), it’s clear God ascribes unsurpassable worth to all. Our most fundamental job as people who are submitted to him is to agree with him about that and reflect this in how we think, speak, and behave toward others. We are thus called to love all people, at all times, in all conditions—no “ifs,” “ands,” or “buts.”

Our model in this is Jesus Christ. Jesus was a scandal to the authorities because of his outrageous love. He loved the unlovable. For example, while Pharisees scorned a woman of ill repute who was acting inappropriately toward Jesus (judged by their religious standards), Jesus loved her and affirmed her (Luke 7:36-50). Similarly, to the shock of his own disciples, Jesus broke the racial and religious codes of his Jewish culture by talking to a Samaritan woman with a scandalous past (John 4:4-27). Jesus let her know that he was aware of her five failed marriages and that she was living with a man she wasn’t married to. He didn’t, however, reveal this to shame her but to convince her he was the Messiah, prove to her that he loved her, and offer her eternal life. As a result of this, the woman became an outspoken evangelist (John 4:28, 29).

Not without reason did Jesus acquire the scandalous reputation of fellowshiping with the dregs of society (Matthew 9:10, 11; 11:19; Mark 2:15, 16; Luke 7:34, 15:1). He loved and fellowshiped with prostitutes, tax collectors, and drunkards. He loved, gave attention to, and helped the “unimportant” people, as well as the “important” people.

This is how we are to love, for this is how we are loved. God’s love is impartial and universal, and so must ours be (Deuteronomy 10:17-19; 2 Chronicles 19:7; Mark 12:14; John 3:16; Acts 10:34; Romans 2:10, 11; Ephesians 6:9; cf. 1 Timothy 2:4; 1 Peter 1:17; 2 Peter 3:9; 1 John 4:8). Anyone in need whom we happen to come upon is our “neighbor” whom we are called to love (Luke 10:27-37). To love as God loves, as exemplified in Christ, is to love without any concern for our own “religious” reputation and without any consideration of the race, class, gender, or “worthiness” of others. Loving like this must be our highest priority, placed above all other concerns.

Loving Enemies

This brings us to what is perhaps the most scandalous and most beautiful aspect of Jesus’ teaching and example regarding love. The command to love indiscriminately—the “evil” as much as the “good”—means that we are commanded to love even (and especially) our enemies. While nonbelievers can be expected to love those who love them, disciples are called and empowered to love and pray for those who hate them and who persecute them (Matthew 5:43, 44; Luke 6:28). While nonbelievers can be expected to do good to those who do good to them, disciples are called and empowered to do good even to those who seek to do them harm (Luke 6:34). While the world lives with an “eye for an eye” mindset, followers of Jesus are commanded to never resist an evil-doer with force, but instead to turn the other cheek when struck (Matthew 5:38-39).

Paul captures the heart of Jesus’ teaching and example when he tells us to “bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse” (Romans 12:14). We are never to “repay anyone evil for evil” (vs. 17) and never to seek vengeance, leaving all such concerns to God (vs. 19). In contrast, he says, “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink” (vs. 20). In this way, we will “overcome evil with good” rather than trying to “overcome evil by evil” (vs. 21).

To be frank, I know of no teaching in the Bible that is as thoroughly ignored by contemporary American Christians as this one. Far from loving our enemies, it is often Christians who are most emphatic regarding the need for America to rise up in righteous vengeance against them. It doesn’t even occur to a good percentage of American Christians that there might be a contradiction between submitting to Christ, on the one hand, and taking up arms against national or personal enemies, on the other. Yet Jesus’ and Paul’s command to love and bless enemies, as well as their prohibition against all violence, is as clear and unqualified as any biblical teaching could be.

Worth noting is that when first-century Jews heard any talk of “enemies,” most would immediately think of Romans. They had for centuries lived under an austere, oppressive, and often unjust empire that sometimes took innocent lives merely to flex their muscle and to remind people who was in charge. This is important, for many today insist that the New Testament’s teaching on loving enemies couldn’t possibly include national or life-threatening enemies. On this basis, they feel justified hating and wanting to kill people such as Osama Bin Laden and other Islamic terrorists. As a matter of fact, however, these are precisely the kind of enemies Jesus and Paul would have had in mind.

Here too, our model is Jesus Christ. He could have called legions of angels to defend himself against his enemies, but instead, he allowed himself to be crucified (Matthew 26:53). Though he was perfectly innocent and his persecutors evil, and though he could have justly squashed them in a second, he chose instead to love them, to the point of offering up his life on their behalf while praying for their forgiveness (Luke 23:34). This is not simply something Jesus did for us; it’s the example we are explicitly commanded to follow when we face evil, life-threatening enemies (2 Peter 2:20-23).

This sort of unconditional love for enemies obviously defies our fallen common sense and patriotic sensibilities—which undoubtedly explains why many American Christians respond to this teaching with a sense of righteous indignation when they hear it. Yet, precisely because it defies our common sense, it puts on display the self-sacrificial beauty of God in a particularly clear way and bears witness to a Kingdom that is “not of this world” (John 18:36).[2]

It’s Love or Nothing

We have noted that manifesting self-sacrificial love to all people at all times fulfills the whole law and is to be our highest priority. Yet, as if this weren’t enough, the New Testament actually goes farther, by insisting that if we fail to love like this, it doesn’t matter what else we do—it is worthless. From a Kingdom perspective, no belief or activity has any value unless it is motivated by, and characterized by, the kind of love Jesus manifested throughout his life and in his death.

Paul makes this point as clear as possible, when he writes:

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-3, NRSV).

Here are some rather impressive religious activities: speaking in tongues, prophetic powers, understanding all mysteries, having all knowledge, mountain-moving faith, giving away possessions, and sacrificing one’s life. Who could help but be impressed if they were to witness such things? Yet according to Paul, they are all devoid of significance unless they are done in love. They are nothing more than religious noise—a “noisy gong” or “clanging cymbal.”

We have perhaps heard this passage read at too many weddings to easily appreciate how mind-bogglingly radical it is. Try to hear it as though it were your first time. Paul is saying that the only criterion that matters when assessing the value of any activity is this: Is it done in love (cf. Galatians 5:6)? Does it ascribe unsurpassable worth to others, and does it increase people’s capacity to ascribe unsurpassable worth to others?

You can display miraculous powers, supernatural gifts, unbelievable spiritual knowledge, and incredible altruism. But as wonderful as these displays may be, if they aren’t motivated by love and don’t promote love, we are to consider them altogether worthless. By the same token, one might be capable of playing worship music that inspires passionate singing, or of preaching eloquent sermons that bring audiences to laughter and tears. But as good as these activities are, if they don’t flow from and contribute to love, we are to consider them as nothing more than irritating, clashing cymbals. And one might be able to grow congregations that pack out stadiums and write books that win world acclaim. Yet as fine as these things might be, if they aren’t motivated by a desire to ascribe unsurpassable worth to others and don’t help increase people’s capacity to ascribe unsurpassable worth to others, we are to regard them as nothing more than a noisy gong.

For people of the Kingdom, participants in the triune fellowship, self-sacrificial love is the all-or-nothing of Christian living. In a very real sense, nothing else really matters—for whatever else we might do matters only because it expresses this.

Our call is to live in Christ, in order to live like Christ. We are invited to be participants in God’s love, which empowers us to embody and manifest God’s love. From a biblical perspective, this is simply what it means to be a Christian.

[1].  The Barna Group has established this fact over and over again. See, e.g., “Survey Shows Faith Impacts Some Behaviors But Not Others,” Barna Group, online at <http://www.barna.org/FlexPage.aspx/Page=BarnaUpdate&BarnaUpdateID=123> (accessed 1-4-08); “Barna Identifies Seven Paradoxes Regarding America’s Faith,” Barna Group, online at <http://www.barna.org/FlexPage.aspx?Page=BarnaUpdate&BarnaUpdateID=128> (accessed 1-4-08).

[2].  Notice that in this passage, Jesus adds that if his Kingdom was part of this world, “my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.” In other words, Jesus points to his disciples’ refusal to resort to violence as the evidence that his Kingdom is not of this world. I submit that this remains one of the best witnesses to the reality of God’s other-world Kingdom.

Table of Contents

Contributors

Preface

Acknowledgments

Authors’ Disclaimer

Introduction

1.   The Cosmic Conflict: The Real “Mother of All Wars” (Brad Cole)

2.   What Is Sin? (Timothy R. Jennings)

3.   Why Do We Suffer? (Dorothee Cole)

4.   Freedom: What’s Love Got to Do with It? (Tom Ewall)

5.   What the Early Christians Believed: The Reality of Cosmic

Conflict (Sigve Tonstad)

6.   Why Is the Story of the Cosmic Conflict Important? (Mark Merizan)

7.   Would You Like to Meet the Old Testament God? (Alden Thompson)

8.   Inspiration (The Bible Says It, but That Doesn’t Settle It) (Brad Cole)

9.   The Great Spectrum of Law  (Virginia Davidson)

10.   The Law: Love in Living Color (Virginia Davidson)

11.   Do You Fear God’s Justice? (Brad Cole)

12.   Spiritual Astigmatism (Scott Bennett)

13.   The Life of Christ (Marco Belmonte)

14.   Parting Words (Larry Ashcraft)

15.   The Cross: Virus Protection for the Mind (Manuel Silva)

16.   At-one-ment (Dorothee Cole)

17.   Roots of Legal Metaphors for Atonement and Salvation (Jean Sheldon)

18.   Freedom in the Truth (A. Loren Smith)

19.   Without the Resurrection of Jesus, All Is Lost (Ken Peterson, Jr.)

20.   The Intercession of Jesus—A Bridge between Heaven and Earth (Cherilyn Clough)

21.   Difficult New Testament Passages (Sue Lewis)

22.   A Second Look at the Second Coming (Dorothee Cole)

23.   Good News in the Judgment (Loren Smith)

24.   Intrinsic or Imposed? Thoughts on the Fire of God (Herb Montgomery)

25.   The Wrath of the Lamb (Brad Cole)

26.   A Different Kind of Kingdom (Gregory A. Boyd)

27.   Prayer Is Friendship with God (Cherilyn Clough)

28.   Community 101 (Mark Merizan)

29.   Living in, and Looking Like, Christ (Gregory A. Boyd)