31 August 2009

shame, gospel, and god

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel; it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek." (Romans 1:16, NRSV)

In what is one of the most moving and powerful expositions on Paul's letter to the Romans that I have read, The Bishop (N. T. Wright) intrinsically asserts the full nature of this statement to be bigger than typical renderings through his placement within the Pauline context. In other words, Paul is saying something which most modern Western ears are not hearing. While most people see this as a personal motivation for witness, the very Jewish language invokes a Jewish background to the (very Jewish) Messiah - whose kingdom Paul is summoned to be a slave (1:1). Wrights discussion (423-426) on Romans 1:16-17 explores the implication of 'shame' as it is brought into the boldness of Paul's declaration.

NTW: "'Shame' in such a context is what God's people feel when their enemies are triumphing; it is what Israel (and many other peoples) felt in Paul's day, suffering at the hands of Rome" (424).

A great example of this (which is also cited in Wright's commentary) are the psalms, which express the shame experienced by God's people on their subjugation to those who oppose God (cf. Psalms 71:1-2; 31:1-3; 143:1; etc). When this is coupled with the understanding of gospel which is rightly taken to mean the ascendency of an emperor to his throne (the 'good news' of his reign), we have a different statement altogether than what is typically preached from the pulpit on this verse.

In short, Paul's statement is about vindication. This can be seen not only in the reference to the Psalms, but also the Second Temple context which shaped and colored Paul's theology. Thus, this statement is about the resurrection (of Jesus the Messiah), ascension (of the good news), and the vindication of Jesus which makes both possible (not ashamed) - only, now it is the status of Jesus as a shared experience of all believers (I am). Rather than this being a simple statement of personal boldness, it is a declaration that his bold proclamation is built upon the work of God through Jesus.

"The explanation is that the gospel, this message about Jesus that he has outlined in vv. 3-4, is itself God's power. It not merely 'possesses' God's power or 'is accompanied by' God's power but simply is God's power" (423). And this is the passion and purpose of every believer, not placing the winning or losing of the impact of our faith upon our own shoulders but that we should do our work well and allow the success of the gospel to be God's responsibility.

Typically, Christians try either to do too much or too little of living out their faith. Too little in that they simply want to *hope* for a better world without personal commitment. Too much in that they make the Christian faith more about the individual believer, or the local church, or the church movement than about letting this story be about God's work through Jesus. And this is what Paul is getting at all along.

For I am not put to shame for the good news of the Lordship of Jesus the Messiah, because it is the power of God for salvation to all who believe, first for the Jew, then for the Gentile.

24 August 2009

post-rapture pet sitting

This gets filed under one of the two: 1) most-pathetic-attempt-at-a-moneymaker; or 2) I-wish-I-would-have-thought-of-it-first. A little of both. But because I am numbered among the sane exegetes who do not see any clear reference to a rapture (via the common perception) in Scripture, it didn't occur to me. And since people want to make actual reading of their Bible secondary to reading things like Left Behind and lame David Jeremiah drivel, then let's get some profit out of it.

I present: Eternal Earth-Bound Pets

N.B., Seriously, you can't make this stuff up.

This is the evangelical version of carbon-offsets. There is no scientific evidence for human-driven global warming, yet guilt poured on the successful goes a long way for raking in some cash.

However, this one is more perfect than the carbon programs. Because there is no way to get your money back - there can be no enforced broken contract. Think about it. If you are raptured, you cannot file lawsuit on the failure of this company to perform its duties. One might even assume that the post-rapture nirvana-like bliss that Christians expect to have while their human family is being lost in the torment of self-destructing earth, you probably won't really even care about ole Fido. (Just a guess here.) And if the rapture doesn't happen (at least, not before Muffins lies in her eternal shoebox) then the contract simply hasn't had opportunity to be executed. The perfect crime.

And I want some action here. (I will also plant a $10 tree for every $100 for carbon credits sent my way . . .)

And, notice, that the program is headed up by an atheist - so you know he's not going anywhere. If you don't have access to a committed atheist - being fearful that he might come to Jesus - there is this chart offered by a competing company, which helps determine who you can trust in the post-apocalyptic scenario.

17 August 2009

quote of the day

"If we could get what we deserve then maybe we will learn to appreciate what we get."

~ Mike (deacon)

12 August 2009

imago

"Jesus is the image of the invisible God. He is incomprehensible to our Western minds - as he was to Eastern ones. He came from beyond where no human mind has visited. When we try to squeeze him into our systems of thought, he vanishes - he slips through our grasp and then reappears and (in so many words) says, 'No man takes my life from me. No man forces his will on me. I am not yours to handle and cheapen. You are mine to love and make holy.' In him the fullness of the Godhead dwells. In him all things are held together. In him we see what love is - that it originates in God and is energized by him. And so, we thank God for all we see. For beauty and for the miracle of sight, for music and the wonder of hearing, for warmth and the sense of touch. But we thank him more for Christ, without whom we would be deaf, insensitive and blind."

~Rich Mullins, "Invisible Things" in Release magazine, Nov/Dec 1994.

10 August 2009

the 13th at 31

Occasionally one needs reminding that there are more important things than what we readily see in this world. While there are so many reasons to be filled with worry and fear when we scan the headlines or listen to our televisions, there are many more reasons to be filled with hope when our eyes our opened to the Spirit which surrounds us. Not the simplistic hope of the modern mind which seeks no more than its own self-gratification, but the hope which recognizes the direction and director of the world.

Reflecting on Psalm 13, I am struck with the two natures which collide in one piece of poetry. It begins with lament, for the situation of this psalmist is difficult to take - so much so that it is as though God has left his side. And without having God's presence, there is no remaining hope. Days are filled with sorrow, and the enemies' rise pushes the believer to the brink of disaster.

And too often my life has been focused on sentiments such as the first half of this psalm, seeing all of the wrongs and not admitting in my heart that there are reasons to hope in the future which God has prepared. I don't want this to be a futuristic pie-in-the-sky approach to the world, which does not recognize legitimate hurt and pain and evil in the world. But neither am I willing to let such realism define my life.

Now that I have moved from the eternal optimism of youth, through the disillusionment of real-life, I now seek for a faith which can accept hurt and pain but which is elevated to a higher existence by the power of God's Spirit. Getting caught up in frivolous debate, theologies based upon rantings, and ministries seeking personal aggrandizement will no longer work. For, like the psalmist of the thirteenth, the sorrow of this world will not have the last word over my trust in his unfailing love.

07 August 2009

influence: michael bird





HT: Jesus Creed Blog

ascension

Even the light that flows from your hands falls,
bends around a heavy star,
gets trapped making a cavern warm, gutters and
goes out.

But you rise, eternal up-and-gone of human prayer,
you who promise
us a flesh like yours, making light look thick and slow.

For now we have
a body's diurnal dawn and rest, rhythmic like
the rise and fall
of hammer on a nail's head, making our red life
flow like yours.


*Gregory Fruehwirth

04 August 2009

the whisper of a prayer

One of the joys that I have found with raising a two-year-old is that she is learning how to pray - to become more consciously aware of God and interact with him. About a year ago we started teaching her to say the Jesus Creed, and it was both adorable and profound at the same time. Now I am finding that with our bedtime prayers, they are sometimes funny, sometimes off-target, sometimes a bit of stalling, but always an open and frank discussion between a child and her heavenly Father.

It has emerged over the course of the past year or so, when it became increasingly difficult for my wife to be able to lay my daughter down without it ending in a long-and-drawn-out battle. So it became largely my responsibility to 'close the deal' and get our daughter to lay down for the night (after a good share of nightly routine with both Mommy and Daddy). And at one point I remember telling her that we were going to 'talk to God' before we go to sleep, and then I would pray over her. And then sometime later on she looked at me and said: 'I want to pray!' So, now we both have our time of talking to God before she drifts to sleep.

These prayers started off as a simple, "God you are good. Amen.'

They stayed that way for quite some time, but lately have been expanding to more conversational prayers. Only once have I been concerned that she was getting away from point, but her prayers can now include a recap of her day, a back-and-forth conversation (Thank you, Jesus . . . You're welcome, Jesus . . .), to a very quick mumble of something before Amen. What is totally consistent is the honesty of a child, who is happy to be in her Father's arms.

And again I am profoundly reminded why we might have been summoned to a childlike faith. Not that we need to be less mature, but that we need to grow young in our faith - undoing the callousness of our hearts and stripping away the layers of cynicism from our spirits. Perhaps our most profound spirituality will come in that single moment when we can talk to God as openly and honestly as this little girl. It isn't about the poetry of our prayers, the crafting of our doctrines, or the systemization of our theology - those things are for Pharisees. It is about saying what is on our hearts and allowing our spirits to connect with his.

Rich Mullins penned: there is this silence in the badlands, and over Kansas the whole universe was stilled . . . by the whisper of prayer