In most preaching on the raising of Lazarus, the focus is on everything that leads up to the event rather than on the event itself. I will be focusing on Jesus' encounter with Lazarus primarily, be the rest of the story certainly merits consideration. We'll be reading John 11:1-44 before the sermon, and the passage will really speak for itself.
One of the more intriguing twists in the story is the way Mary and Martha switch roles. Most of the time we see Mary as the contemplative one, who would rather spend time with Jesus than prepare a meal or who poured out her expensive perfume as a gift to Him. Martha is the worker, the one who is busy serving, but who sometimes misses the "necessary thing." Commentators and Bible scholars sometimes use the contrast between the two sisters as illustrations of one too busy with service to contemplate Jesus versus one who seeks a closer relationship with Him, much to Martha's discredit.
Because of that portrait of Martha. it is important to note her role in this passage. She is the one who goes to meet Jesus, while Mary stays in the house, and does not come until she is called. While both sisters remark that if Jesus had been present Lazarus would not have died, it is Martha who adds that she knows Jesus can do anything God allows Him to do. Martha is the one who professes faith in the Resurrection and in Jesus as the One with the power over death. Had we only John 11, it is Martha who would be held up as the paragon of faith, while Mary might be seen as one whose faith is lost when events don't go her way.
Of course, such a characterization would not be true. Both sisters clearly had faith in Jesus, although that faith was expressed in different ways in response to different situations. But while Mary generally receives her due (and some commentators even use the other passages about her to try and force a positive meaning on her actions here), Martha remains in our minds as the one too busy to spend time with Jesus. That picture needs correction from the Gospel accounts.
Faith expresses itself in many ways. I believe God created us each with our own temperaments, gifts, and abilities so that we can serve Him in the way He wished us to serve. Sometimes we can allow that to interfere with our relationship with Jesus, as Martha did previously and Mary did here. We can also allow that move us to draw nearer to Jesus, again as both sisters did on occasion. One is not necessarily better than the other, just a different expression. We should each in our own way seek to be near Jesus even as we use our diverse gifts in His service.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Illustrious Men
I started reading Jerome's Lives of Illustrious Men today. While much of the early part of the book is heavily dependent of Eusebius, it still makes for some fascinating reading. Jerome took a format used by pagan writers and adapted it to Christianity by listing those whom he knew had produced significant literary works from the time if the New Testament up to his day.
One of the aspects of this work that makes it so intriguing is the number of writers whose works we do not have and who thus, by today's standards, are obscure or unknown. Certainly you will find familiar names in the list, starting with Peter, including the NT authors and the Apostolic Fathers, writers like Tertullian and Irenaeus, and on through the years until it ends with Jerome himself. But the majority of those listed are either familiar only to those who specialize in patristic study or perhaps not even to them.
I think this is a great illustration of the way God uses many people in accomplishing His will. There are always a few prominent individuals who are recognized widely among large groups of people. There are also some who may not be known outside Christian circles, but who are well-known within them. Then there are those whose work is known only to a select few who happen to be around where they are. Finally there are those who toil in anonymity, known only to God. All have a role to play in the kingdom of God.
Those writers who are listed by Jerome but whose works are unknown now may have been every bit as brilliant and insightful as those whose works we have. They may have labored courageously to proclaim the gospel message (and quite a number are noted as martyrs). Jerome thought them worthy of mention as "illustrious" despite the losses, some of which had occurred by his time. Yet all of them served their Lord faithfully, even if their contribution is no longer available to us.
Don't worry about your reputation as a follower of Jesus. If you serve the Lord, the only reputation that matters is the one you have with God. Be an example, be faithful, and let the Lord declare you "illustrious" in His sight.
One of the aspects of this work that makes it so intriguing is the number of writers whose works we do not have and who thus, by today's standards, are obscure or unknown. Certainly you will find familiar names in the list, starting with Peter, including the NT authors and the Apostolic Fathers, writers like Tertullian and Irenaeus, and on through the years until it ends with Jerome himself. But the majority of those listed are either familiar only to those who specialize in patristic study or perhaps not even to them.
I think this is a great illustration of the way God uses many people in accomplishing His will. There are always a few prominent individuals who are recognized widely among large groups of people. There are also some who may not be known outside Christian circles, but who are well-known within them. Then there are those whose work is known only to a select few who happen to be around where they are. Finally there are those who toil in anonymity, known only to God. All have a role to play in the kingdom of God.
Those writers who are listed by Jerome but whose works are unknown now may have been every bit as brilliant and insightful as those whose works we have. They may have labored courageously to proclaim the gospel message (and quite a number are noted as martyrs). Jerome thought them worthy of mention as "illustrious" despite the losses, some of which had occurred by his time. Yet all of them served their Lord faithfully, even if their contribution is no longer available to us.
Don't worry about your reputation as a follower of Jesus. If you serve the Lord, the only reputation that matters is the one you have with God. Be an example, be faithful, and let the Lord declare you "illustrious" in His sight.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Sunday sermon: "Jesus Meets a Curious Man"
Zacchaeus has always been a rather sympathetic character to many who grew up in Sunday school. The song certainly helped, but I think we all feel sorry for this poor, short man who can't get through a crowd to see Jesus. The truth is, Zacchaeus was reaping what he had sowed. By his own admission later in the passage (Luke 19:1-10) he had cheated people out of their money to make himself rich. As the chief tax collector for Rome he had taken up with the enemy of his people. If he expected sympathy he was sadly mistaken. For those in the crowd, this may have been a way of exacting a small revenge on this odious man.
Yet Zacchaeus refused to give up. He wanted to "see who Jesus was"; he didn't just want to see Jesus, as if he was watching a parade, but try to find out what kind of person Jesus was. Perhaps he had heard of Jesus' reputation for caring for the outcasts of society. In any case, he threw his dignity to the win and climbed up in a sycamore tree so that he might see Jesus as He passed by. No doubt this too amused any who happened to see him climbing, but to Zacchaeus only one thing mattered-seeing Jesus.
Jesus stopped where Zacchaeus had climbed, looked up at him, and called him by name. There is no indication in the Bible that Jesus had any idea who Zacchaeus was before this, but He knew him at this moment. Jesus passed through Jericho not only because it was on the road to Jerusalem, but to keep a divine appointment. He "must" stay at Zacchaeus' house that day.
Zacchaeus responded immediately, and as the story unfolds we see a clear transformation in the life of a confessed sinner. Yet the crowds still murmured against Jesus for going in and eating with a "sinner." Many may have been religious, but they lacked a concern for the lost. The Messiah was to be reserved for the respectable, those who had earned the right to be part of the people of God. Jesus was upsetting all their preconceptions.
Jesus clearly states His mission, not only for Zacchaeus but for others to hear as well: "For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost." He was, in fact, on His way to secure the salvation of the lost on the cross. This encounter was a microcosm of His concern for those who were in desperate need of Savior. Whether the crowd would reach out to the sinner or not, Jesus would go out and seek those who needed Him.
Are there Zacchaeuses in your life today? Do you know someone who is searching for Jesus, not just out of curiosity but to see what He is all about? Are you willing to reach out to them with the good news of Jesus, no matter what others might say? We need to take the mission of Jesus, the mission He left for us (Matthew 28:19-20), and continue to carry it out today.
Yet Zacchaeus refused to give up. He wanted to "see who Jesus was"; he didn't just want to see Jesus, as if he was watching a parade, but try to find out what kind of person Jesus was. Perhaps he had heard of Jesus' reputation for caring for the outcasts of society. In any case, he threw his dignity to the win and climbed up in a sycamore tree so that he might see Jesus as He passed by. No doubt this too amused any who happened to see him climbing, but to Zacchaeus only one thing mattered-seeing Jesus.
Jesus stopped where Zacchaeus had climbed, looked up at him, and called him by name. There is no indication in the Bible that Jesus had any idea who Zacchaeus was before this, but He knew him at this moment. Jesus passed through Jericho not only because it was on the road to Jerusalem, but to keep a divine appointment. He "must" stay at Zacchaeus' house that day.
Zacchaeus responded immediately, and as the story unfolds we see a clear transformation in the life of a confessed sinner. Yet the crowds still murmured against Jesus for going in and eating with a "sinner." Many may have been religious, but they lacked a concern for the lost. The Messiah was to be reserved for the respectable, those who had earned the right to be part of the people of God. Jesus was upsetting all their preconceptions.
Jesus clearly states His mission, not only for Zacchaeus but for others to hear as well: "For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost." He was, in fact, on His way to secure the salvation of the lost on the cross. This encounter was a microcosm of His concern for those who were in desperate need of Savior. Whether the crowd would reach out to the sinner or not, Jesus would go out and seek those who needed Him.
Are there Zacchaeuses in your life today? Do you know someone who is searching for Jesus, not just out of curiosity but to see what He is all about? Are you willing to reach out to them with the good news of Jesus, no matter what others might say? We need to take the mission of Jesus, the mission He left for us (Matthew 28:19-20), and continue to carry it out today.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Whatever Happened to...Zacchaeus?
As those who have heard me preach or teach know, I like to speculate on what happened to Biblical characters who we see come onto the stage in the Scriptures briefly, never to be heard from again. These speculations are not themselves Biblically authoritative, but I try to use the Biblical data to project what happened. Sometimes we are helped by church traditions; if they are early enough and/or show up in multiple sources, we can at least give them some credit. Many are late, or just the speculations of a single writer, though, and as such are no more authoritative than, well, me.
I found myself chasing clues today on the later career of Zacchaeus. He appears just once in the gospels, and then only in Luke. His story is touching and familiar to most who grew up in and around church (possibly helped by the song: "Zacchaeus was a wee little man..."). His old career is told to us in Luke. He was the "chief tax collector"- not just a tax collector, but the boss tax collector. His encounter with Jesus dramatically changed his life. (I'm going to stop with that, since I'm preaching on this passage this Sunday.)
But what happened to Zacchaeus after Jesus left Jericho? Did he follow Jesus to Jerusalem? Did he witness the Triumphal Entry or the crucifixion? Was he one of the 120 on the day of Pentecost, or maybe part of the crowd Peter preached to? I could certainly see this transformed man going to Jerusalem for the Passover with his newfound faith, and being caught up in the events surrounding Jesus.
A fairly early church tradition, dating back into the 2nd century, says that Zacchaeus became the first bishop of Caesarea. It is certainly possible that this could happen. Perhaps with the persecution that broke out after Stephen's death Zacchaeus, who lived in relatively nearby Jericho, moved to the coast. Caesarea was an important city, and as a former Roman employee Zacchaeus may well have felt at home there. He probably was a well-educated man, and the Biblical account shows us an exuberant personality. All of these seem to fit together well.
This doesn't mean that we know this for sure. Still, given the early tradition and the way the facts can fit together, it wouldn't surprise me. From a hated collaborator with the enemy to one proclaiming forgiveness and new life in Jesus Christ, Zacchaeus shows us the power of Jesus to truly transform our lives.
I found myself chasing clues today on the later career of Zacchaeus. He appears just once in the gospels, and then only in Luke. His story is touching and familiar to most who grew up in and around church (possibly helped by the song: "Zacchaeus was a wee little man..."). His old career is told to us in Luke. He was the "chief tax collector"- not just a tax collector, but the boss tax collector. His encounter with Jesus dramatically changed his life. (I'm going to stop with that, since I'm preaching on this passage this Sunday.)
But what happened to Zacchaeus after Jesus left Jericho? Did he follow Jesus to Jerusalem? Did he witness the Triumphal Entry or the crucifixion? Was he one of the 120 on the day of Pentecost, or maybe part of the crowd Peter preached to? I could certainly see this transformed man going to Jerusalem for the Passover with his newfound faith, and being caught up in the events surrounding Jesus.
A fairly early church tradition, dating back into the 2nd century, says that Zacchaeus became the first bishop of Caesarea. It is certainly possible that this could happen. Perhaps with the persecution that broke out after Stephen's death Zacchaeus, who lived in relatively nearby Jericho, moved to the coast. Caesarea was an important city, and as a former Roman employee Zacchaeus may well have felt at home there. He probably was a well-educated man, and the Biblical account shows us an exuberant personality. All of these seem to fit together well.
This doesn't mean that we know this for sure. Still, given the early tradition and the way the facts can fit together, it wouldn't surprise me. From a hated collaborator with the enemy to one proclaiming forgiveness and new life in Jesus Christ, Zacchaeus shows us the power of Jesus to truly transform our lives.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Big and Small Prayers
It is always interesting to argue with an ancient author. While it may seem that the advantage lies with the reader, who is after all alive while the author is not and can thus not respond, the very fact that the author's work has survived gives immense weight to his argument. I certainly do not consider myself to be the intellectual equal of a classic author, yet I have confidence that sometimes I am right and he is wrong.
Origen seems to be all over the place when it comes to the kinds of prayer we are to make. He emphasizes that we are to ask God for the big things, which in his estimation are those that are spiritual, and not worry God with the small things, which he considers most physical requests to be. He then discusses how when we ask for an receive the more important things we will also receive the lesser. There seems to be a tension within Origen as to how we approach God without being focused on our worldly needs.
Origen disparages the physical, preferring the spiritual. In order to fit requests like "Give us today our needful bread" into what he sees as a spiritual context, he takes allegorical liberties in his interpretation. In doing so, he often teaches a significant spiritual truth, but he also misses the main point. (Eventually, this allergorical interpretation and focus on the spiritual while downplaying the physical would get him into trouble!)
However, I think there is an important point made by Origen's teaching on prayer. I don't believe we have to find a "spiritual meaning" behind every request or teaching on prayer in the Bible; it is clear that we are to pray for everything. Where Origen has it right is that we should not allow a focus on our temporal needs to completely over shadow the spiritual needs in our lives. We should pray for our daily bread, healing, and other earthly concerns, but we should also be praying "Your kingdom come" and "Deliver us from the evil one."
If we balanced our prayer perspectives, we wouldn't fall into the "health and wealth gospel" trap of seeing God as there to provide everything we want. Prayer is not only about us and our needs; it is about God and our relationship with Him. As a loving Father, He wants to meet our needs (although there is no Biblical warrant for asking Him to meet our "wants"), but He also wants us to draw closer in a loving relationship that will last for eternity.
So while I think Origen has gone too far in his quest to make prayer purely about spiritual concerns, I think there is a salutary warning for us not to go the other way and make our prayers purely about our temporal concerns.
Origen disparages the physical, preferring the spiritual. In order to fit requests like "Give us today our needful bread" into what he sees as a spiritual context, he takes allegorical liberties in his interpretation. In doing so, he often teaches a significant spiritual truth, but he also misses the main point. (Eventually, this allergorical interpretation and focus on the spiritual while downplaying the physical would get him into trouble!)
However, I think there is an important point made by Origen's teaching on prayer. I don't believe we have to find a "spiritual meaning" behind every request or teaching on prayer in the Bible; it is clear that we are to pray for everything. Where Origen has it right is that we should not allow a focus on our temporal needs to completely over shadow the spiritual needs in our lives. We should pray for our daily bread, healing, and other earthly concerns, but we should also be praying "Your kingdom come" and "Deliver us from the evil one."
If we balanced our prayer perspectives, we wouldn't fall into the "health and wealth gospel" trap of seeing God as there to provide everything we want. Prayer is not only about us and our needs; it is about God and our relationship with Him. As a loving Father, He wants to meet our needs (although there is no Biblical warrant for asking Him to meet our "wants"), but He also wants us to draw closer in a loving relationship that will last for eternity.
So while I think Origen has gone too far in his quest to make prayer purely about spiritual concerns, I think there is a salutary warning for us not to go the other way and make our prayers purely about our temporal concerns.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Sunday sermon: "Jesus Meets a Handicapped Man"
There is certainly enough tragedy in this life to go around. Just check how long it takes your evening news broadcast to get to the first good news of the night. With all of this, there are Christians who see everything as God's judgment on some person, group, or nation for sins they have committed.
The disciples approached the man this passage, John 9:1-7, with that kind of an attitude. Since he was born blind, it must be the fault of someone who sinned. While some tragedies are certainly the result of sin, and God may very well use natural disasters on occasion as judgment, I believe the vast majority of "bad things" that happen are the result of living in a fallen world. So in a sense, they are the result of sin, but of the original sin of Adam and Eve, which led to the curse.
Jesus turns the disciples' opinion around. It wasn't the fault of anyone, but "happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." This man had suffered all of his life to this point, but God would bring His glory out of that situation. While we do not enjoy going through suffering, it is important to realize that even in our worst circumstances God can bring about His glory. He may not choose to deliver us from those circumstances, as Jesus did here, but He can still use us to glorify Himself.
Jesus' actions here puzzle us. (Perhaps some are even grossed out by them. Would you want mud made with spit put on your eyes?) Why the mud? The early church writers didn't find this as puzzling as we do; there is a fairly consistent theme through several of the fathers. Irenaeus is a representative example: "To that man, however, who had been blind from his birth, He gave sight, not by means of a word, but by an outward action; doing this not without a purpose, or because it so happened, but that He might show forth the hand of God, that which at the beginning had moulded man." (Against Heresies V.15.2) The mud was a reminder of the earth from which Adam was formed, and its use was intended to show that the same power that made man also could heal a man.
The ultimate transformation, however, comes later in the passage. In vv.35-38 we read of a second encounter between the man and Jesus. After the man had been thrown out of the synagogue (whether temporarily or permanently is not clear), Jesus seeks him out and moves him from physical to spiritual sight. Once he realizes who Jesus is, the man falls and worships Him. The change in his life is deeper and more profound than the change in his eyesight. Unlike the Pharisees, who remained willingly blind spiritually, this man could see who Jesus really was. To gain sight when you have never seen is amazing; to gain eternal life when you are lost is infinitely greater. This man's own disability led him to the Savior.
As is common in the Bible, when we read about going through adversity we have the challenge of allowing God to glorify Himself through us. Our human reaction is to complain and pout, which only leads others to see that Christians react just like everyone else. We need to choose to honor the Lord through our sufferings, and to actively seek to proclaim His glory. It isn't easy (and despite what some TV evangelists say God never promised it would be), but in the light of eternity it is worth it.
The disciples approached the man this passage, John 9:1-7, with that kind of an attitude. Since he was born blind, it must be the fault of someone who sinned. While some tragedies are certainly the result of sin, and God may very well use natural disasters on occasion as judgment, I believe the vast majority of "bad things" that happen are the result of living in a fallen world. So in a sense, they are the result of sin, but of the original sin of Adam and Eve, which led to the curse.
Jesus turns the disciples' opinion around. It wasn't the fault of anyone, but "happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." This man had suffered all of his life to this point, but God would bring His glory out of that situation. While we do not enjoy going through suffering, it is important to realize that even in our worst circumstances God can bring about His glory. He may not choose to deliver us from those circumstances, as Jesus did here, but He can still use us to glorify Himself.
Jesus' actions here puzzle us. (Perhaps some are even grossed out by them. Would you want mud made with spit put on your eyes?) Why the mud? The early church writers didn't find this as puzzling as we do; there is a fairly consistent theme through several of the fathers. Irenaeus is a representative example: "To that man, however, who had been blind from his birth, He gave sight, not by means of a word, but by an outward action; doing this not without a purpose, or because it so happened, but that He might show forth the hand of God, that which at the beginning had moulded man." (Against Heresies V.15.2) The mud was a reminder of the earth from which Adam was formed, and its use was intended to show that the same power that made man also could heal a man.
The ultimate transformation, however, comes later in the passage. In vv.35-38 we read of a second encounter between the man and Jesus. After the man had been thrown out of the synagogue (whether temporarily or permanently is not clear), Jesus seeks him out and moves him from physical to spiritual sight. Once he realizes who Jesus is, the man falls and worships Him. The change in his life is deeper and more profound than the change in his eyesight. Unlike the Pharisees, who remained willingly blind spiritually, this man could see who Jesus really was. To gain sight when you have never seen is amazing; to gain eternal life when you are lost is infinitely greater. This man's own disability led him to the Savior.
As is common in the Bible, when we read about going through adversity we have the challenge of allowing God to glorify Himself through us. Our human reaction is to complain and pout, which only leads others to see that Christians react just like everyone else. We need to choose to honor the Lord through our sufferings, and to actively seek to proclaim His glory. It isn't easy (and despite what some TV evangelists say God never promised it would be), but in the light of eternity it is worth it.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
The "Unchanging" Church
I was talking to one of my fellow pastors today, and he told me about a friend of his who became a convert to Roman Catholicism after reading the works of the church fathers. Such conversions are not terribly unusual (although I think more evangelicals tend to move toward the Orthodox Church), and often result in rather zealous evangelists for their new theological views.
This young man told my colleague that he joined the Roman Catholic Church because he thought it had retained the true teaching of the early church, and in fact that its teaching and practice had not changed in two millennia. Such a view is taught in some Catholic circles, but it is historically naive. Still, it raises a critical question: in what ways do we Christians today have a part in an "unchanging" church?
Part of the issue is rooted in the very nature of the early church. The church from its early days was under sporadic persecution in divers locales. The New Testament was still being written up to almost the end of the 1st century, and the full acceptance of the NT canon would take another century or two. The church's structure was still fluid, and there were few voices of authority to promote orthodox teaching. Rival religions often hung onto the edges of Christianity. There is something in the Fathers to confound any modern church tradition: pedobaptists have to explain the Didache, presbyterians and congregationalists the epistles of Ignatius, and many Christians struggle with the battle between the Jewishness of some writers and the Greco-philosophical bent of others.
I absolutely enjoy spending time reading and studying the fathers of the church. Yet I know that they were fallible men despite their gifts, and that the teaching of the Bible is more important than the teaching of its early interpreters. At the risk of sounding unduly critical, placing authority in the hands of the Fathers is not dissimilar to the way Jews of Jesus' time placed authority in the hands of the rabbis rather than in the Scriptures. Our authority is the Bible; our teachers are the men and women of faith throughout the ages who seek to guide us into truth.
We participate in an "unchanging" church when we hold fast to the Biblical doctrines that were hammered out by those who went before us in an attempt to clarify what the Bible teaches us. There is in this sense an "orthodox consensus" that is centered on belief in God as Father, Son, and Spirit, in Jesus as both fully divine and fully human, in the practice of baptism and Communion (albeit differently understood), and in a firm conviction that all genuine believers in Christ are part of a larger body, one spread throughout the world and throughout the ages. We all share in belief in the early creeds, and that center of our faith holds us together when other beliefs and practices set us apart. There is an unchanging core for Christianity, but it is not found in the fathers; rather, our unchanging center is Jesus Christ as revealed in His eternal Word.
This young man told my colleague that he joined the Roman Catholic Church because he thought it had retained the true teaching of the early church, and in fact that its teaching and practice had not changed in two millennia. Such a view is taught in some Catholic circles, but it is historically naive. Still, it raises a critical question: in what ways do we Christians today have a part in an "unchanging" church?
Part of the issue is rooted in the very nature of the early church. The church from its early days was under sporadic persecution in divers locales. The New Testament was still being written up to almost the end of the 1st century, and the full acceptance of the NT canon would take another century or two. The church's structure was still fluid, and there were few voices of authority to promote orthodox teaching. Rival religions often hung onto the edges of Christianity. There is something in the Fathers to confound any modern church tradition: pedobaptists have to explain the Didache, presbyterians and congregationalists the epistles of Ignatius, and many Christians struggle with the battle between the Jewishness of some writers and the Greco-philosophical bent of others.
I absolutely enjoy spending time reading and studying the fathers of the church. Yet I know that they were fallible men despite their gifts, and that the teaching of the Bible is more important than the teaching of its early interpreters. At the risk of sounding unduly critical, placing authority in the hands of the Fathers is not dissimilar to the way Jews of Jesus' time placed authority in the hands of the rabbis rather than in the Scriptures. Our authority is the Bible; our teachers are the men and women of faith throughout the ages who seek to guide us into truth.
We participate in an "unchanging" church when we hold fast to the Biblical doctrines that were hammered out by those who went before us in an attempt to clarify what the Bible teaches us. There is in this sense an "orthodox consensus" that is centered on belief in God as Father, Son, and Spirit, in Jesus as both fully divine and fully human, in the practice of baptism and Communion (albeit differently understood), and in a firm conviction that all genuine believers in Christ are part of a larger body, one spread throughout the world and throughout the ages. We all share in belief in the early creeds, and that center of our faith holds us together when other beliefs and practices set us apart. There is an unchanging core for Christianity, but it is not found in the fathers; rather, our unchanging center is Jesus Christ as revealed in His eternal Word.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
St. Patrick
In commemoration of St. Patrick, this quotation from his Confession should inspire us all in our own callings:
"Thus I give untiring thanks to God who kept me faithful in the day of my temptation, so that today I may confidently offer my soul as a living sacrifice for Christ my Lord; who am I, Lord? or, rather, what is my calling? that you appeared to me in so great a divine quality, so that today among the barbarians I might constantly exalt and magnify your name in whatever place I should be, and not only in good fortune, but even in affliction? So that whatever befalls me, be it good or bad, I should accept it equally, and give thanks always to God who revealed to me that I might trust in him, implicitly and forever, and who will encourage me so that, ignorant, and in the last days, I may dare to undertake so devout and so wonderful a work; so that I might imitate one of those whom, once, long ago, the Lord already pre-ordained to be heralds of his Gospel to witness to all peoples to the ends of the earth. So are we seeing, and so it is fulfilled; behold, we are witnesses because the Gospel has been preached as far as the places beyond which no man lives."
"Thus I give untiring thanks to God who kept me faithful in the day of my temptation, so that today I may confidently offer my soul as a living sacrifice for Christ my Lord; who am I, Lord? or, rather, what is my calling? that you appeared to me in so great a divine quality, so that today among the barbarians I might constantly exalt and magnify your name in whatever place I should be, and not only in good fortune, but even in affliction? So that whatever befalls me, be it good or bad, I should accept it equally, and give thanks always to God who revealed to me that I might trust in him, implicitly and forever, and who will encourage me so that, ignorant, and in the last days, I may dare to undertake so devout and so wonderful a work; so that I might imitate one of those whom, once, long ago, the Lord already pre-ordained to be heralds of his Gospel to witness to all peoples to the ends of the earth. So are we seeing, and so it is fulfilled; behold, we are witnesses because the Gospel has been preached as far as the places beyond which no man lives."
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
A Half-Millennium of Change
I finished reading Pelikan yesterday. (Of course, now I have to add the rest of the series to my reading list, especially vol. 2.) As I read the final chapter, discussing the state of Christianity around AD 600, I thought about the change that had occurred within the church over half a millennium. As someone who has a special interest in the 2nd century, I found the church entering the 7th century was a much different entity, both in practice and belief. There had been much clarification and solidification of several major doctrines, and many liturgical innovations as well. The church was politically connected to the Empire; no longer was it a persecuted minority.
Yet as I thought about it, it shouldn't be so strange that so much had changed over what is quite a long period of time. To put it in perspective, 500 years ago the Western church was still six years from Luther's Ninety-five Theses. While there was a reformative unrest in the church, the fuse had not yet been lit. In the Eastern church, less than 60 years had passed since the fall of Constantinople, and the church was still dealing with the fallout from that event. The changes since those days have made our own half-millennium at least equally interesting.
What is truly intriguing about the changes in the first 500 years of the church is the way those changes took place in the context of an era without the rapid transit and information options of our own age. Of course, that also may have been a plus; sometimes we spend so much time and effort reacting to the latest news that we fail to truly digest what is important. Athanasius couldn't send out a quick, hot e-mail in response to an Arian publication. He would have time to read it, and his reaction was written out over a period of time that allowed him time to really think it through. (This doesn't mean all correspondence or writings were carefully thought out, but it's probably safe to say they took a little more thought than those of our age generally do.)
The other factor that impressed me is how much of the catholic consensus that existed in 600 still underlies the theology of the varied branches of Christianity today. Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant alike recite the Nicene Creed, and find support for what they believe in the writings of the Fathers. (Admittedly, Protestants do it less than the other branches, and the Orthodox seem a little more attached to the ancient Fathers due to the rise of the papacy in the West.) While the world of patristic Christianity is certainly not the same as our world today, we still find ourselves all part of one universal brotherhood.
That idea should help to cure us of some of the arrogance we exhibit in modern Christian circles. We often prefer to hear the latest idea, and to follow teachers who proclaim that they have discovered something new to add to the faith. Surprisingly, the "latest" idea often turns out to be something that has been known and taught for centuries. Some perspective on those who have gone before us, and on whose shoulders we stand, is needed to give us a wider perspective on the church, not only geographically but chronologically as well. In heaven, we will be worshipping God with brothers and sisters from all ages, and growing together with them forever.
A half of a millennium will seems a few days then; when we have the ability to meet our ancestors through what they have left for us, it should not separate us as a family now.
Yet as I thought about it, it shouldn't be so strange that so much had changed over what is quite a long period of time. To put it in perspective, 500 years ago the Western church was still six years from Luther's Ninety-five Theses. While there was a reformative unrest in the church, the fuse had not yet been lit. In the Eastern church, less than 60 years had passed since the fall of Constantinople, and the church was still dealing with the fallout from that event. The changes since those days have made our own half-millennium at least equally interesting.
What is truly intriguing about the changes in the first 500 years of the church is the way those changes took place in the context of an era without the rapid transit and information options of our own age. Of course, that also may have been a plus; sometimes we spend so much time and effort reacting to the latest news that we fail to truly digest what is important. Athanasius couldn't send out a quick, hot e-mail in response to an Arian publication. He would have time to read it, and his reaction was written out over a period of time that allowed him time to really think it through. (This doesn't mean all correspondence or writings were carefully thought out, but it's probably safe to say they took a little more thought than those of our age generally do.)
The other factor that impressed me is how much of the catholic consensus that existed in 600 still underlies the theology of the varied branches of Christianity today. Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant alike recite the Nicene Creed, and find support for what they believe in the writings of the Fathers. (Admittedly, Protestants do it less than the other branches, and the Orthodox seem a little more attached to the ancient Fathers due to the rise of the papacy in the West.) While the world of patristic Christianity is certainly not the same as our world today, we still find ourselves all part of one universal brotherhood.
That idea should help to cure us of some of the arrogance we exhibit in modern Christian circles. We often prefer to hear the latest idea, and to follow teachers who proclaim that they have discovered something new to add to the faith. Surprisingly, the "latest" idea often turns out to be something that has been known and taught for centuries. Some perspective on those who have gone before us, and on whose shoulders we stand, is needed to give us a wider perspective on the church, not only geographically but chronologically as well. In heaven, we will be worshipping God with brothers and sisters from all ages, and growing together with them forever.
A half of a millennium will seems a few days then; when we have the ability to meet our ancestors through what they have left for us, it should not separate us as a family now.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sunday sermon: "Jesus Meets a Trapped Woman"
As we deal with this passage as it has come to us, we find one of the more powerful stories of Jesus' gracious dealing with sinners. The setup of the story is the trap set for Jesus, by men whose motives were obviously suspect. Why only the woman if she was caught in the act? Why ask Jesus, who had no particular authority to deal with the matter? Why mention a form of punishment Rome would most likely have issues with if it was carried out? The text is clear that this was designed to be a no-win situation for Jesus.
The picture of Jesus stooping to write on the ground is memorable. For a passage so many scholars question, there is certainly a lot of speculation about what Jesus wrote. While many of the speculations are plausible, none of them make any difference. I believe what Jesus was doing was buying time to think-not for Himself, but for the accusers.
So we have the famous statement, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." I think Jesus wasn't referring to someone being sinless in general, but to their innocence in this matter. He was challenging these religious leaders: "If you are pure in your motivations in accusing this woman, go ahead and throw a stone." From oldest to youngest, they depart, leaving no accuser.
At this point, with no witness and no accuser present, Jesus is perfectly within the Law to dismiss the case. But it is important to remember two things. (1) There was someone present who could, under Jesus' strictures, cast the first stone-Jesus Himself. (2) Although the woman was the victim of the religious leaders' setup, she was actually guilty of the sin of which they accused her. Yet Jesus shows mercy, and lets her go free.
However, it was not an unconditional freedom. "Go now and leave your life of sin." Jesus does not condone her sin, nor does He excuse it. He expects that the result of His mercy will be a change in her life, a desire to do what is righteous. It is vital to keep these two in the proper order. Righteousness is the response to grace; it is not the condition of grace. The grace of God precedes our righteousness. We cannot buy or earn grace; if we could, it would not be grace. The grace of God is given freely, so that we receive what we do not deserve. Our response then is to live in a way that honors the God who showed us grace,
It is also vital to remember that when Jesus forgave this woman, He could do so because He knew the price for her sin would be paid by Him. In grace, we do get what we do not deserve, but it is because Jesus got what He did not deserve. He paid the price so our debt could be paid. Nothing you or I can do can pay Jesus back for the cross.
As we encounter "sinners," we need to remember that we ourselves are sinners saved by grace. We are to be instruments of the grace of God, showing the love of Jesus to those we encounter so that they might see Him through us.
The picture of Jesus stooping to write on the ground is memorable. For a passage so many scholars question, there is certainly a lot of speculation about what Jesus wrote. While many of the speculations are plausible, none of them make any difference. I believe what Jesus was doing was buying time to think-not for Himself, but for the accusers.
So we have the famous statement, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." I think Jesus wasn't referring to someone being sinless in general, but to their innocence in this matter. He was challenging these religious leaders: "If you are pure in your motivations in accusing this woman, go ahead and throw a stone." From oldest to youngest, they depart, leaving no accuser.
At this point, with no witness and no accuser present, Jesus is perfectly within the Law to dismiss the case. But it is important to remember two things. (1) There was someone present who could, under Jesus' strictures, cast the first stone-Jesus Himself. (2) Although the woman was the victim of the religious leaders' setup, she was actually guilty of the sin of which they accused her. Yet Jesus shows mercy, and lets her go free.
However, it was not an unconditional freedom. "Go now and leave your life of sin." Jesus does not condone her sin, nor does He excuse it. He expects that the result of His mercy will be a change in her life, a desire to do what is righteous. It is vital to keep these two in the proper order. Righteousness is the response to grace; it is not the condition of grace. The grace of God precedes our righteousness. We cannot buy or earn grace; if we could, it would not be grace. The grace of God is given freely, so that we receive what we do not deserve. Our response then is to live in a way that honors the God who showed us grace,
It is also vital to remember that when Jesus forgave this woman, He could do so because He knew the price for her sin would be paid by Him. In grace, we do get what we do not deserve, but it is because Jesus got what He did not deserve. He paid the price so our debt could be paid. Nothing you or I can do can pay Jesus back for the cross.
As we encounter "sinners," we need to remember that we ourselves are sinners saved by grace. We are to be instruments of the grace of God, showing the love of Jesus to those we encounter so that they might see Him through us.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Why Bother?
I was asked, "Why are you bothering to teach about textual criticism at all? You could just skip that passage." That is true in this case; as you can tell from my "Sunday sermon" posts, I'm doing a series on people who encountered Jesus. I could just not deal with this passage, and use another encounter to make the point I want to make.
There are two reasons for preaching on John 7:53-8:11. The first is that it is simply a beautiful passage, both in showing how Jesus escaped the trap set by the religious leaders and in His interaction with the woman. The power of the image stays with people for a long time. (That may well be part of the reason this passage came to be included in a gospel.)
The second reason is that people need to know about some of the more technical issues that lie behind good evangelical Bible study. It does the church no good to duck behind an attitude of "I'll just follow what the preacher says" and fail to dig into Scripture for ourselves. It also does the members of our church no good to avoid issues and leave them wondering about the notes, lines, and asterisks in their Bibles. (Yes, even in a real 1611 KJV there are a lot of translation notes.) If they see them and never hear about why they are there, they are more likely to question the reliability of their Bibles than if we explain why they are there.
I don't believe in taking one translation of the Bible and making that the standard all others have to follow. It is true that some translations are better than others, and some translations fill certain roles better than others. (The NASB, for example, is an excellent Bible for study, but sorely lacking as one to be read aloud publicly.) In the church I am currently serving, there are several translations being used by different members of the congregation. When we "read around" in Sunday school, you pick up various nuances from each translation. Together, we use them to come to grips with what the writers actually wrote, and how those words impacted their audiences.
So I not only teach the Bible, but teach about the Bible. I want those who hear me to have a rock-solid confidence in the Word of God. I want them to understand that the Bible is entirely reliable, and that we essentially have the inerrant wording of the vast bulk of Scripture. Where there are questions, we face them and answer them, but we never lose sight of what the Bible truly is- God's Word to His people throughout the ages.
There are two reasons for preaching on John 7:53-8:11. The first is that it is simply a beautiful passage, both in showing how Jesus escaped the trap set by the religious leaders and in His interaction with the woman. The power of the image stays with people for a long time. (That may well be part of the reason this passage came to be included in a gospel.)
The second reason is that people need to know about some of the more technical issues that lie behind good evangelical Bible study. It does the church no good to duck behind an attitude of "I'll just follow what the preacher says" and fail to dig into Scripture for ourselves. It also does the members of our church no good to avoid issues and leave them wondering about the notes, lines, and asterisks in their Bibles. (Yes, even in a real 1611 KJV there are a lot of translation notes.) If they see them and never hear about why they are there, they are more likely to question the reliability of their Bibles than if we explain why they are there.
I don't believe in taking one translation of the Bible and making that the standard all others have to follow. It is true that some translations are better than others, and some translations fill certain roles better than others. (The NASB, for example, is an excellent Bible for study, but sorely lacking as one to be read aloud publicly.) In the church I am currently serving, there are several translations being used by different members of the congregation. When we "read around" in Sunday school, you pick up various nuances from each translation. Together, we use them to come to grips with what the writers actually wrote, and how those words impacted their audiences.
So I not only teach the Bible, but teach about the Bible. I want those who hear me to have a rock-solid confidence in the Word of God. I want them to understand that the Bible is entirely reliable, and that we essentially have the inerrant wording of the vast bulk of Scripture. Where there are questions, we face them and answer them, but we never lose sight of what the Bible truly is- God's Word to His people throughout the ages.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Origen: On Prayer
One element of my Lenten observance is reading teaching about prayer. I plan to combine this to a large degree with my interest in patristics, and to read from some of the many writings of the church fathers on prayer.
I came across Origen's treatise "On Prayer" as I looked up some materials online. (Many sites have the public domain translation of William Curtis available free of charge.) Origen is a truly interesting figure in the early church, whose reputation throughout the years (even going back to his own times) has swung back and forth depending on the controversies of the era, but he is generally regarded as the greatest scholar of his time and one of the greatest in church history, even by those who find problems with his exegetical methods or theological views. We have quite a bit of his work still available, yet it is just a small sample of his massive output.
This treatise is a short one, addressed to two Christians, Ambrosius and Tatiana, and is exactly what its title suggests: a discussion of prayer. One aspect of Origen's work I appreciate is his attempt to ground all of his teaching in Scripture. I found myself pausing to meditate over the beginning passages of this work, where Origen speaks of the "impossibility" of praying in the right way, which is only made possible through the Holy Spirit.
His comments on the disciples asking Jesus to teach them to pray are powerful: "I think it must have been the awakened consciousness of human weakness falling short of prayer in the right way, above all realized as he listened to great words of intimate knowledge falling from the Savior's lips in prayer to the Father, that moved one of the disciples of Jesus to say to the Lord when He ceased praying, 'Lord, teach us to pray, even as John also taught his disciples.'" The example of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels (not to mention the unwritten example He set for His disciples) showed them and us that our prayers are not a matter of a particular set of words or a set pattern, but of understanding that we need help to pray.
This is a truth I wrestle with. There is a tendency to think that "learning to pray" means finding the right prayer outline (ACTS, the Model Prayer, etc.) and using that for every prayer. We try to find appropriate language; should it be formal or informal, written or spontaneous? In the end, Origen reminds us that in a sense none of those elements matters. We can't pray right.
Of course, he continues with the wonderful Biblical truth that the Holy Spirit prays with us and for us. We are empowered to pray by God the Spirit, and He guides us and teaches us as we pray. This to me is a critical lesson that I am still trying to grasp. It is in knowing our powerlessness that we become powerful; it is in understanding that we don't know how to pray that we are able to pray.
I hope to finish this treatise this weekend, and I hope to learn lessons that I can use to strengthen my own prayer time.
I came across Origen's treatise "On Prayer" as I looked up some materials online. (Many sites have the public domain translation of William Curtis available free of charge.) Origen is a truly interesting figure in the early church, whose reputation throughout the years (even going back to his own times) has swung back and forth depending on the controversies of the era, but he is generally regarded as the greatest scholar of his time and one of the greatest in church history, even by those who find problems with his exegetical methods or theological views. We have quite a bit of his work still available, yet it is just a small sample of his massive output.
This treatise is a short one, addressed to two Christians, Ambrosius and Tatiana, and is exactly what its title suggests: a discussion of prayer. One aspect of Origen's work I appreciate is his attempt to ground all of his teaching in Scripture. I found myself pausing to meditate over the beginning passages of this work, where Origen speaks of the "impossibility" of praying in the right way, which is only made possible through the Holy Spirit.
His comments on the disciples asking Jesus to teach them to pray are powerful: "I think it must have been the awakened consciousness of human weakness falling short of prayer in the right way, above all realized as he listened to great words of intimate knowledge falling from the Savior's lips in prayer to the Father, that moved one of the disciples of Jesus to say to the Lord when He ceased praying, 'Lord, teach us to pray, even as John also taught his disciples.'" The example of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels (not to mention the unwritten example He set for His disciples) showed them and us that our prayers are not a matter of a particular set of words or a set pattern, but of understanding that we need help to pray.
This is a truth I wrestle with. There is a tendency to think that "learning to pray" means finding the right prayer outline (ACTS, the Model Prayer, etc.) and using that for every prayer. We try to find appropriate language; should it be formal or informal, written or spontaneous? In the end, Origen reminds us that in a sense none of those elements matters. We can't pray right.
Of course, he continues with the wonderful Biblical truth that the Holy Spirit prays with us and for us. We are empowered to pray by God the Spirit, and He guides us and teaches us as we pray. This to me is a critical lesson that I am still trying to grasp. It is in knowing our powerlessness that we become powerful; it is in understanding that we don't know how to pray that we are able to pray.
I hope to finish this treatise this weekend, and I hope to learn lessons that I can use to strengthen my own prayer time.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
On Ash Wednesday
Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of the season of Lent. As a Baptist, observance of the liturgical calendar is not something I grew up with, and I do not feel compelled to do so today. I did develop an appreciation for the liturgical calendar during my seminary days, when I attended a strongly liturgical seminary. (Where, I might add somewhat ironically, I became the choir director and more or less chief cantor, even once leading a sung litany.) The liturgical calendar requires the remembrance of the significant events in the life of Jesus, and reminds us of theological themes (such as Pentecost, the Ascension, and the Trinity)we might otherwise let pass for long periods of time otherwise.
That said, I think that Lent (and its companion season, Advent) can be significant times for Christians. Many who observe Lent as part of their religious culture or upbringing often trivialize the idea of self-discipline and sacrifice that are part of the season. It is almost seen as a time of doing something to curry favor with God, to remind Him of why He is fortunate to have us as His followers. Such cultural observances miss the main point of Lent.
Lent is a penitential season. It is a time not to try to win God's favor, but to remember His mercy. If I choose to give up something for Lent, I should replace the time spent on that activity with prayer to draw me closer to the Lord. In a sense, the sacrifice is nothing without the intent. I have given up a number of things I enjoyed this year, but in an effort to lose weight. Such a sacrifice, though no doubt good for me, is not primarily about drawing closer to Jesus, but about maintaining my health. That is not a Lenten sacrifice.
So what do I intend to give up for Lent? Nothing. I do not feel compelled to do so. Yet I do plan to observe Lent as a time of reflection, penitence, and prayer. I intend rather than "giving up" something for Lent to "take on" something. I want to prepare my heart for Good Friday and Easter by taking time to draw closer to God. This probably requires more discipline and sacrifice than "giving up" would!
I have felt Jesus prompting me to more and deeper times of prayer. I know I have a long way to go in the practice of prayer, and I believe that what He is calling me to do requires it. So for Lent I want to set aside specific time to pray for the Holy Spirit to cleanse and work in my heart, and for the Lord to make His will clear to me. I believe that will fulfill the true intent of the Lenten season.
That said, I think that Lent (and its companion season, Advent) can be significant times for Christians. Many who observe Lent as part of their religious culture or upbringing often trivialize the idea of self-discipline and sacrifice that are part of the season. It is almost seen as a time of doing something to curry favor with God, to remind Him of why He is fortunate to have us as His followers. Such cultural observances miss the main point of Lent.
Lent is a penitential season. It is a time not to try to win God's favor, but to remember His mercy. If I choose to give up something for Lent, I should replace the time spent on that activity with prayer to draw me closer to the Lord. In a sense, the sacrifice is nothing without the intent. I have given up a number of things I enjoyed this year, but in an effort to lose weight. Such a sacrifice, though no doubt good for me, is not primarily about drawing closer to Jesus, but about maintaining my health. That is not a Lenten sacrifice.
So what do I intend to give up for Lent? Nothing. I do not feel compelled to do so. Yet I do plan to observe Lent as a time of reflection, penitence, and prayer. I intend rather than "giving up" something for Lent to "take on" something. I want to prepare my heart for Good Friday and Easter by taking time to draw closer to God. This probably requires more discipline and sacrifice than "giving up" would!
I have felt Jesus prompting me to more and deeper times of prayer. I know I have a long way to go in the practice of prayer, and I believe that what He is calling me to do requires it. So for Lent I want to set aside specific time to pray for the Holy Spirit to cleanse and work in my heart, and for the Lord to make His will clear to me. I believe that will fulfill the true intent of the Lenten season.
John 7:53-8:11 and Textual Criticism
This is a brief discussion of the textual question that I will provide as a bulletin insert this Sunday.
Why is John 7:53-8:11 set apart in my Bible?
The passage we are studying today, John 7:53-8:11, is set apart in most modern translations. There is usually an explanatory note that says that this passage was probably not part of the original writing of John. Why do scholars think that is so, and why is this passage still included in our Bibles?
We have a great number of manuscripts of the New Testament in existence today, dating back to the 2nd century. We have more manuscripts from later periods, and also a large number of manuscripts of early Bible translations. Very few manuscripts read exactly alike; there is usually some variation between them. This is due to the fact that they were copied by hand, and occasionally the copyist would make a mistake.
Fortunately, we have so many manuscripts of many different types that we are able to figure out by studying them what the original wording was. The process by which we do this is called “textual criticism.” This isn’t the kind of criticism that questions the reliability of the Bible, but is the process of recovering as best we can the original wording of the Bible.
We have a lot of confidence that most of the New Testament we have today is exactly what was written by the original human authors. Where there are differences, they do not affect any point of Biblical teaching or call into question any doctrine we believe.
This passage is one of the longer passages that are questioned by scholars. Here are a few of the reasons for this:
1) This passage is not found in the oldest manuscripts of the New Testament.
2) This passage is not found in the oldest translations of the New Testament.
3) The earliest commentators on the New Testament do not mention this passage.
4) Many manuscripts which include this passage set it apart from the rest of the text, much like we do in our modern translations.
5) Where this passage is found, it sometimes is put in a different place in John, and in some manuscripts it is even found in Luke instead.
So if there are so many questions, why do we keep this passage in our Bibles today? Some reasons scholars keep this passage:
1) Some very early church writers mention a story circulating at their time that sounds much like this one.
2) Jerome, who made the Latin translation we call the Vulgate, around AD 400, mentions it as existing in many manuscripts he used.
3) Augustine (also around 400) writes that he believes the passage was “removed” by some who were concerned that the passage gave license to adultery.
4) There is a general consensus that this story is a genuine account of an incident in the life of Jesus that circulated in the early church. It eventually became attached to a gospel account (which is why it shows up in different places). The sayings and actions of Jesus here are very much in character with what we see of Him in the rest of the Gospels.
I believe that we have here in this passage a genuine story about Jesus, acting in mercy toward a sinner, and that we can study this passage with profit.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Textual Criticism and Biblical Reliability
I will be preaching on a passage this Sunday that requires me to explain a little bit about textual criticism. (I didn't preach this past Sunday, which is why there is no Sunday sermon.) Just saying the words "textual criticism" in an evangelical setting, especially among those who have not had Bible college or seminary training, often brings a highly negative response. Most church members, if they have heard about Biblical criticism at all, have heard about the way it was used by liberal theologians to tear down down the authority of the Bible by calling large portions of it into question.
Now it is certainly true that there has been much damaging criticism made in the past 200 years or so. Scholars have latched on to any device that seems to allow them to ignore Biblical teaching where it opposes what they wish to believe, or what the culture tells them is right. I have found even in evangelical circles that many commentaries have become almost worthless due to the relative proportion of time they spend reconstructing a hypothetical setting and origin for a passage, rather than dealing with what that passage teaches.
Still, there is a valid work of textual criticism that needs to be engaged in by Biblical students. This isn't done with the intent of throwing chunks of the Bile into the trash because they don't fit our preconceived ideas, but with the intent of discovering exactly what the authors of the Bible wrote. As someone who is a firm believer in Biblical inerrancy and authority, I want to know the original wording of the Biblical books.
This criticism, often called "lower criticism," is actually a quite interesting area of study. While no language scholar, I have read much on the subject over the years. I appreciate that those who engage in such criticism generally have a cautious attitude toward any speculative reading of the manuscripts. They seek to pull all the available evidence together, with the goal of finding the exact wording of a passage.
This is, of course, controversial. Some find that any work that "changes" what they hold to be the infallible text of Scripture (often in a particular translation, not the original languages) must be heretical. Others start to lose sight of the existing textual evidence, and create readings that are not found in any existing manuscript but seem to make sense to them. Handling God's Word requires careful, thoughtful, respectful study.
For those of us who teach, it also does no good to shield the people in our churches from the existence of these issues. They will pick up a Bible and see footnotes that such-and-such a passage does not exist in the oldest and most reliable translation, or that another manuscript tradition has a variant reading, or perhaps even see an extensive passage of Scripture (John 7:53-8:11 and Mark 16:9-20 being the prime examples) set off by lines. They will wonder what that means, and start to question either the reliability of the Bible or the reliability of the translators. We need to explain what is at stake.
So I embrace the opportunity to teach about text-critical issues. I may blog later this week on the particular issue I am dealing with in my Sunday sermon, and I will certainly provide teaching to the congregation on the passage. But in the end, what I want is the Bible as it was written, and I am willing to undertake whatever study is necessary to come as close to that wording as possible.
Now it is certainly true that there has been much damaging criticism made in the past 200 years or so. Scholars have latched on to any device that seems to allow them to ignore Biblical teaching where it opposes what they wish to believe, or what the culture tells them is right. I have found even in evangelical circles that many commentaries have become almost worthless due to the relative proportion of time they spend reconstructing a hypothetical setting and origin for a passage, rather than dealing with what that passage teaches.
Still, there is a valid work of textual criticism that needs to be engaged in by Biblical students. This isn't done with the intent of throwing chunks of the Bile into the trash because they don't fit our preconceived ideas, but with the intent of discovering exactly what the authors of the Bible wrote. As someone who is a firm believer in Biblical inerrancy and authority, I want to know the original wording of the Biblical books.
This criticism, often called "lower criticism," is actually a quite interesting area of study. While no language scholar, I have read much on the subject over the years. I appreciate that those who engage in such criticism generally have a cautious attitude toward any speculative reading of the manuscripts. They seek to pull all the available evidence together, with the goal of finding the exact wording of a passage.
This is, of course, controversial. Some find that any work that "changes" what they hold to be the infallible text of Scripture (often in a particular translation, not the original languages) must be heretical. Others start to lose sight of the existing textual evidence, and create readings that are not found in any existing manuscript but seem to make sense to them. Handling God's Word requires careful, thoughtful, respectful study.
For those of us who teach, it also does no good to shield the people in our churches from the existence of these issues. They will pick up a Bible and see footnotes that such-and-such a passage does not exist in the oldest and most reliable translation, or that another manuscript tradition has a variant reading, or perhaps even see an extensive passage of Scripture (John 7:53-8:11 and Mark 16:9-20 being the prime examples) set off by lines. They will wonder what that means, and start to question either the reliability of the Bible or the reliability of the translators. We need to explain what is at stake.
So I embrace the opportunity to teach about text-critical issues. I may blog later this week on the particular issue I am dealing with in my Sunday sermon, and I will certainly provide teaching to the congregation on the passage. But in the end, what I want is the Bible as it was written, and I am willing to undertake whatever study is necessary to come as close to that wording as possible.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Discursus On Music
As much as I would like to be a full-time student, I have other responsibilities. That is true for all of us; even "professional academics" have other areas of their lives. As an active pastor, I sometimes get the opportunity to attend conferences on various areas related to the ministry.
I have spent the day looking forward to attending a conference on music and worship at my son's school. In preparing for this, I dusted off an old piece I had performed about 30 years ago as a voice student in college. I will not be performing tomorrow, but I wanted to take it out for a spin vocally.
I enjoy music. It was my undergraduate major, and I spent several years teaching music to classes of autistic and multiply-disabled students. I have served in churches as a worship and music leader, a choir director, a soloist, an instrumentalist, and even in desperate times a pianist. Making music is a way to communicate yourself to others, and to praise God with all your being. (Sing for an hour, and tell me you haven't had a workout!)
We have the text of many early hymns in the NT and in the extant literature of the early church. What we do not have is any real idea of how these were sung. I can't say I have done extensive research on this (although it would make a very interesting project), but since there were no recording methods or even musical notation that we fully grasp, we can just guess at how these hymns sounded. It does look like the early church practiced congregational singing of some kind, however.
I want to encourage you to sing to the Lord. You don't have to be an expert, or even much of a singer at all. In the church I am serving, we have a number of deaf people, and they "sing" using ASL. I have started to learn to do that as well; it is another way to praise God. What God wants is praise from the heart, not a fear of doing less than a polished performance.
There is, of course, a place for the trained musician in leading in worship and in expressing praise through performance. Don't be intimidated, though, by those who are gifted in music. We all have different gifts, and we use them to honor the God. But we all can praise God in whatever way we can, and He is blessed by our praise.
I have spent the day looking forward to attending a conference on music and worship at my son's school. In preparing for this, I dusted off an old piece I had performed about 30 years ago as a voice student in college. I will not be performing tomorrow, but I wanted to take it out for a spin vocally.
I enjoy music. It was my undergraduate major, and I spent several years teaching music to classes of autistic and multiply-disabled students. I have served in churches as a worship and music leader, a choir director, a soloist, an instrumentalist, and even in desperate times a pianist. Making music is a way to communicate yourself to others, and to praise God with all your being. (Sing for an hour, and tell me you haven't had a workout!)
We have the text of many early hymns in the NT and in the extant literature of the early church. What we do not have is any real idea of how these were sung. I can't say I have done extensive research on this (although it would make a very interesting project), but since there were no recording methods or even musical notation that we fully grasp, we can just guess at how these hymns sounded. It does look like the early church practiced congregational singing of some kind, however.
I want to encourage you to sing to the Lord. You don't have to be an expert, or even much of a singer at all. In the church I am serving, we have a number of deaf people, and they "sing" using ASL. I have started to learn to do that as well; it is another way to praise God. What God wants is praise from the heart, not a fear of doing less than a polished performance.
There is, of course, a place for the trained musician in leading in worship and in expressing praise through performance. Don't be intimidated, though, by those who are gifted in music. We all have different gifts, and we use them to honor the God. But we all can praise God in whatever way we can, and He is blessed by our praise.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Who Is Jesus?
Perhaps the most significant theological question the church wrestled with in its early days was "Who is Jesus?". Many of the heresies on our standard laundry list in church history involved questions about Jesus. Was He merely human, totally divine, or something combination? Were His human and divine natures mixed or separate? Was He eternally existent or created? Was He God like God the Father, or some kind of different divine essence?
We look back at those controversies and wonder why it took so long to resolve them. Put in their historical context, however, the consensus that was stated in orthodox teaching came together fairly quickly. Given that Christians were an often oppressed and periodically persecuted minority, theological controversy had to take a back seat to survival. By the time the church became tolerated, moving toward official status, teaching about Jesus came together as essentially what we believe today at Nicaea.
This doesn't mean everyone agreed immediately, and some never did agree to the Nicene formulation. Many more controversies and clarifications were still to take place. Some of the heresies of the ancient church, like Arianism, remain in the teachings of certain groups today. But for the majority of the church, the question of who Jesus is was pretty much settled.
Is this question still settled today? While we expect that those outside the church would see Jesus as just a specially gifted man or as some kind of mystical figure, even among those who call themselves Christian the teaching that Jesus is uniquely God and man is often obscured if not denied. It seems awkward to those who want to be thought of well by the world's standards to teach that Jesus is God, and even more embarrassing to teach that He is the only way to God. So new formulations are sought to ease these beliefs, and some of these look a lot like those rejected in the earliest days of the church.
So who is Jesus? An orthodox answer- that He is the unique God-Man, second person of the Trinity, come in the flesh- is a start, but not a finish. We each must ask ourselves who Jesus is in our own lives. Do we honor Him as our Lord, or treat Him like a tenet of our philosophy? Is He our Savior, or just a stained glass figure we think about on Sunday morning? There may be no more important question we ask ourselves in this life than "Who is Jesus?".
We look back at those controversies and wonder why it took so long to resolve them. Put in their historical context, however, the consensus that was stated in orthodox teaching came together fairly quickly. Given that Christians were an often oppressed and periodically persecuted minority, theological controversy had to take a back seat to survival. By the time the church became tolerated, moving toward official status, teaching about Jesus came together as essentially what we believe today at Nicaea.
This doesn't mean everyone agreed immediately, and some never did agree to the Nicene formulation. Many more controversies and clarifications were still to take place. Some of the heresies of the ancient church, like Arianism, remain in the teachings of certain groups today. But for the majority of the church, the question of who Jesus is was pretty much settled.
Is this question still settled today? While we expect that those outside the church would see Jesus as just a specially gifted man or as some kind of mystical figure, even among those who call themselves Christian the teaching that Jesus is uniquely God and man is often obscured if not denied. It seems awkward to those who want to be thought of well by the world's standards to teach that Jesus is God, and even more embarrassing to teach that He is the only way to God. So new formulations are sought to ease these beliefs, and some of these look a lot like those rejected in the earliest days of the church.
So who is Jesus? An orthodox answer- that He is the unique God-Man, second person of the Trinity, come in the flesh- is a start, but not a finish. We each must ask ourselves who Jesus is in our own lives. Do we honor Him as our Lord, or treat Him like a tenet of our philosophy? Is He our Savior, or just a stained glass figure we think about on Sunday morning? There may be no more important question we ask ourselves in this life than "Who is Jesus?".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)